Ask Me how I know there's a God up in the heavens
by The Righterzpen
Summary: "If I be tempted; why not you?" Jesus asks in all seriousness. "Is man more righteous than God?" A young woman finds herself in the past; 2000 years in the past to be exact. Trying to confront her own history; how can events in the 1st century AD help her put her demons to rest?
1. Author's Note:

As per what is written in Scripture; this story is written to be as close to Scripture as possible and as historically and theologically sound as I know to make it.

This being said though, events in the plot line that we don't know of from the Scripture (or history) are also part of this story. (We don't know what happened to Nicodemus, Joseph of Aramathea or much about Pilate.) So yes, there is some poetic license taken with events and personalities that we can only speculate what their interactions in real history actually were. For example, I'm sure the Roman authorities did do some investigation when they found out the tomb was in deed empty.


	2. Prologe

**Prologue:**

When in the course of human events...

 _No, no, no. That won't do either. How to tell this story?_

 **My editor says the reader needs to relate to my character's emotions. Your character isn't scared. She's not panicking. There's not enough emotion. The reader has to be able to relate.**

 _I was too afraid to panic! The war taught GI Jane here; to bury emotions while in survival mode. That's why it's survival mode; because if you don't bury emotions, you don't survive! That's why its called POST traumatic stress._

 _Ask me how I know?_

 **Well, I'm glad you mentioned PTSD; but your character isn't realistic!**

 _Really? How do you know? This happened to me; not you. So..._

 _Ask me how I know?_

 **What's the conflict? What does your character want more than anything? Establish where the story is going. You need to do this... all in the first chapter! Your story doesn't hook me, so I wouldn't keep reading it.**

 _Yet who has believed our report? Who would believe our report? You got caught in a time warp?... Where? You got stuck in Jerusalem?... When? You did what to Jesus Christ... How?_

 _Ask me..._

 ** _I see her as a little girl hiding in her room._**

 ** _She takes another bath and she sprays her mama's perfume._**

 ** _She tries to wipe away the scent he left behind, but it haunts her mind._**

 ** _You see, she's his little rag, nothing more than just a waif._**

 ** _And he's mopping up his need, she is tired and afraid._**

 ** _Maybe she'll find a way through these awful years; to disappear._**

 ** _Ask me if I think there's a God up in the Heaven?_**

 ** _Where did He go in the middle of her shame?_**

 ** _Ask me if I think there's a God up in the Heaven?_**

 ** _I see no mercy, and no one down here's naming names._**

 ** _Nobody's naming names!_**

 ** _Now, she's looking in the mirror at a lovely woman face._**

 ** _No more frightened little girl, like she's gone without a trace._**

 ** _Still she leaves the light burning in the hall. It's hard to sleep at all;_**

 ** _'Til she crawls up in her bed acting quiet as a mouse._**

 ** _Deep inside she's listening, for a creaking in the house._**

 ** _But no one's left to harm her, she's finally safe and sound._**

 ** _There's a peace she's found._**

 ** _Ask me how I know there's a God up in the Heavens._**

 ** _Where did He go in the middle of my shame?_**

 ** _Ask me how I know there's a God up in the Heavens._**

 ** _I say His mercy is bringing me life again!_**

 ** _I'm coming to life again!_**

 **So ask me...**

 _(Ask Me - song by Amy Grant)_


	3. Road yet Traveled

**Road Yet Traveled**

"Lord willing and... time don't come unhinged!" The morning show guys chuckled as I reached over and hit the off button. Enough talk radio for now. I decided as I stared down the freeway, while my thoughts all bled together, just like the last 3 states I'd driven through!

Vacations, yes just like any other working slob, I love them! Though on the other hand, I must admit I like going home on the back end, almost as much as the hoot of "Road Trip!" on the front end. It will be nice to get back to a familiar routine, especially after being gone so long. I said to myself, acknowledging that though I'd had a good time, I was ready for my native New York.

I'd driven out to America's cereal box; _(The land of fruits, nuts, and flakes - i.e. California. Yet don't fret about your reputation left coast: New England clam chowder is white on account of the snow. Manhattan though is red... because of the murders. So, ehh... no state is perfect!)_

I'd spent about a month visiting friends and was now returning home. I'd really come to like San Francisco from the time I spent there in the army (though I must admit I really didn't like the army) but anyway: Buffalo is still... snowy, or at least for now (and it's been so since... mid October)!

My bored mind rambled aimlessly as my little car puttered down I-80, headed for a night in Chicago. Endless fields of parched grasslands faded into obscurity, only to be punctuated by an occasional billboard. I wasn't paying much attention to the repetitive scenery, when I passed a sign on the interstate. It said "Santa's Village Next Exit" and my thoughts turned once again to Christmas presents. After all, it was the beginning of December and as soon as the snow flies in - so does Christmas. I was in a holiday slump though, I just couldn't think of what to get anybody and I'd been racking my tiny brain since... Thanksgiving. What do you get a family that has everything; _and I mean absolutely every thing!_

 ** _BOOM!_**

My thoughts were suddenly shattered by a thunderously loud hum. The ground began to rumble and in a shriek of terror I saw this _THING_ whiz by. A huge explosion turned the highway in front of me into an instant Inferno. Hell was the only thing I could think of and in a moment of panic, I closed my eyes and screamed.

I awoke stunned and disorientated. Everything seemed so dark and I didn't know where I was. My eyes began to focus and I could make out vaguely familiar objects. I was still in my car.

"I'm not dead." I mumbled to myself in vague consolation that where ever I was; it wasn't hell. I took a deep breath and slowly pushed my sore body to a sitting position. My senses returned to life and I soon realized something about this "accident" was indeed notably bizarre. I quickly became alarmed, not by what I saw; but rather, by what I didn't see. The fire from the explosion was mysteriously... gone! In it's place stood a desert.

"Where am I?" I questioned in frightened disbelief as I surveyed my surroundings. I frantically searched all around for the freeway; it was gone too.

 _Maybe this is hell?_

Just then, I noticed what looked like withered trees on the hills to my right. Were they really trees? I questioned, as I hurriedly rummaged through my camping gear. I grabbed my binoculars for a closer look. "Yes they are!" I excitedly exclaimed. "Oh Thank You!" I breathed a sigh of relief. I still hadn't the faintest idea where the _flip_ I was, but... I knew it wasn't hell. _(No trees in hell!)_ And besides; at least I wasn't the only life in this barren wasteland.

In my excitement I stepped on the clutch and without thinking, turned the key. The engine rolled over into an easy idle and it was then I realized something else here was really weird. If I was just in an explosion, my car shouldn't run at all! I reasoned as I sat a moment pondering this detail before I finally decided not to 'look a gift horse in the mouth'; after all it was an awful long walk to them trees.

I quickly swung the car around and literally...'headed for the hills'. As I drove, I noticed the surface sand was very fine and dusty, but the ground hard packed. How peculiar? I contemplated. I didn't know America had deserts like this. I wonder where I am?

My fears were... _(somewhat)_ alleviated when I suddenly happened upon a road. It was a primitive, yet well trodden path; which proved there must be people here somewhere. As I followed this trail into the hills, I was further comforted by patches of green and small animals I met on my journey. When birds began to appear, I knew I must be getting closer to water and where there is water, there's bound to be civilization of some sort.

My prayers were answered when I spotted sheep in the distance and I could tell these sheep definitely weren't wild. They were too stagnant to be the creatures of the planes that were constantly on the move. As I drew nearer, my heart skipped a beat at the sight of the first human soul (and body) I'd seen in over two hours since I'd embarked upon this trek.

I eagerly pulled over to ask directions and was stunned by the shepherd's clothing as he dropped his staff and darted off into the field. Middle East stabbed my conscience like a bad nightmare from Desert Storm and before I was even aware of it, my programming had been tripped into survival mode.

My days of combat training switched on and like any good soldier caught behind enemy lines, I just suddenly snapped into 'autopilot'. It was no longer about where I was and how I got here. In an instant, triggered by an Arab boy dressed in a simple linen Thawb with a Keffiyeh on his head; it became a quest to stay alive.

Good old post traumatic stress disorder! I cynically laughed as my mind jumped into high gear, logging all that was now necessary. I must blend into this society as best I can in order to ensure my safety. I let out a deep sigh as I began to ponder how I was going to do that, until I could get to an embassy for refuge. This revelation opened a whole new world of fears, for I knew that if I was really in the Middle East, I could be in serious danger.

Looking around for anyone else, I nervously got back on the road. I was now more afraid than ever and began to cry as I prayed for wisdom on what I should do next. I have to find appropriate clothing! I told myself, as I looked down at my jeans and sweater, while I mentally ran through all of the necessary components needed for a traditional Islamic hijab.

If I could get my hands on an Abaya and headscarf, I have a chance. I began to reason as I wondered where I really was? If this is Saudi Arabia, I'm also in trouble for driving. I mumbled silently as I really began to hope and pray this wasn't the case. Jordan, Iran, or Egypt would be easier to fake my way through. I took another deep breath; but if I'm in Iraq, I better not let them find out I'm an American, for they would no doubt arrest me. What about my license plate? The thought suddenly jolted me, as I mentally logged one more detail I needed to cover.

It's not that I had any personal problems with the Iraqis in and of themselves. They were probably the closest thing to American society; (maybe besides Israel... _eh, leave the political issues to judgement day - God will sort it all out later..._ ) that I'd recognize. It's just the sanctions at all. I pondered while the tears ran down my face, as images of countless enemy prisoners of war and Iraqi civilians marched through my memory on their way to detention centers or refugee camps. I could feel my hands shaking as the racket of war grew louder in my memory. I can't think about this! I told myself as I pulled over, opened the door and vomited in the road.

Middle East. I let out one last deep sigh, as I collected myself and went back through my clothing for something I could use as a scarf. At least inside the car, no one would notice my legs... as of yet. I reasoned as I pulled a Swiss Army knife out of my camping gear and began to slice up a white cotton dress shirt. This is a good enough scarf for now. I determined as I folded it over, leaving the hem of the shirt bottom hanging as far down my back and arms as I could. After pulling my sweater off, I set out rummaging through my hygiene items until I found one lone safety pin in my make-up bag. I gratefully kissed it and fastened my 'scarf' under my chin. I'm ready to go now. I... informed myself, as I took one last deep breath and got back on the road.

I wasn't driving long before I rounded the bend and quickly came upon my next human encounter; a group of men marching down the road. I swerved out of the way and they all frantically scattered.

"Roman soldiers?" I questioned, looking at them in my rearview mirror as I passed.

That makes no sense whatsoever! I glared, as total bewilderment began to set in; when I suddenly realized I better pay more attention to where I'm going than where I've been. Am I on a movie set? I started to wonder.

I was looking around for props and cameras when I suddenly came upon my next near miss. Seeming to pop out of nowhere, was a man in a chariot and several soldiers on horseback. As I passed, the lead horse reared up, dumping the chariot's occupant. This spooked the other horses and they all ran in a panicked disarray, leaving a litter of soldiers in the road. I began to pull over, until I saw one of the horsemen coming after me with a spear. I stepped on the gas and lost him in a dust cloud.

I knew for sure now, that it certainly didn't appear I was in Kansas any longer; and I even started to question whether or not I was still in the 20th-century? No, that's nonsense! I scolded myself. People can't travel through time; it's impossible. There's no way to reverse entropy and make history 'un-happen' so it can 're-happen' differently. I sighed, as the most recent strange dream (that must have triggered this current strange dream) came in for a landing.

It must've been the heat and endless miles of desert. I shuttered with a sudden snicker, while I automatically began scanning the sky for spaceships. Maybe the enterprise will come and rescue me? I giggled as I contemplated which crew I would want on my recovery team. I like Spock, but if I were to have my choice of captains; it would be Janeway! I decided, for I was trying very hard to reassure myself there **_really_** was no such thing as time travel; (or flying saucers for that matter).

I wasn't normally prone to beliefs in the 'unexplained'; though reluctantly admitted to frequently getting 'stuck in the past'. _After all, what's PTSD anyways?_ I chuckled in a bit of sarcastic contempt, as I tracked back to the task at hand.

I began to consider, as I thought about the shepherd and the soldiers whose' flashes of facial expressions remained etched in my mind. I must have looked like something from outer space to them, since their sheer terror still left me with an uneasy chill. Memories of my own 'alien' encounters hovered over my mind like that strange dot on the horizon we'd seen back during the war. That one we all made a pact to never talk about. I pondered, as I tried to reconcile these two experiences.

The puzzle pieces of then and now, just weren't falling into place though. I scratched my head with a scornful sort of cynicism, for; if this really was some century past, at least I know who they are. They have no idea who (or even what) I am. I chuckled with a somber sense of irony, as I thought of all the other people in my century who'd been labeled 'wacko' on account of some experience they perceived to be encounters with extraterrestrial life. Now, I don't know though? Maybe all that science fiction stuff isn't so far-fetched? I began to seriously wonder; for I **_can't_** explain _this_!

Well, I guess I'm just blessed with an over active imagination. I shrugged as I convinced myself that the rules for this game scenario were no different than the rules for the last game scenario. Dream or reality, modern Middle East or Roman Empire; I knew my only chance of surviving was to blend into this society as best I could. So, I guess I just play the game? I had to agree, since I had no other choice. Besides, both in waking and sleep; I'd rehearsed the training ritual so many times.

First order of business has changed though; I need to ditch my car and fast! It won't be any good to me after it runs out of gas anyway; I knew, as I quickly turned off the road headed for some cliffs and a hiding place. This question of time travel though confused and frightened me even more than the prospect of UFOs and/or Saudi Arabia; for how was I going to get home and more importantly, could I stay alive?

I continued along the side of a mountain until I saw some rock juts and pulled into and around one of them, driving over as rough of terrain as I thought my little car could handle. I don't think anyone saw me. I breathed a sigh of relief. On the other hand, I can't be too sure; better go check. I told myself, as I cautiously got out of the car and crept back towards the entrance. I peered around the corner and saw no one, but I did notice a near drastic mistake I made; my tire tracks!

I began looking around for a nice bush that wouldn't miss a branch if I borrowed one for a minute. Branches were easy, they were everywhere; it was just getting one off a tree that would be the challenge. I knew desert plants don't give up their limbs very easily, but I did find one that would cooperate and began hiding the evidence. Obviously, I'd crossed another road when I came out of the field.

I was busy sweeping my tracks when I heard jingling and the clip clop of a horse. I quickly ducked behind a rock, praying it wasn't the soldier I nearly flattened a while ago. A man passed by in a chariot, kicking up enough dust to cover the tracks I hadn't descended upon yet. Fortunately, he was a civilian and never seem to notice the 'strange markings'.

With a sigh of relief, I made my way back to the car and immediately began searching my suitcase for brown clothing. I pulled out some brown pants, a T-shirt, and an off white sweatshirt. I emptied my backpack, putting whatever food and water I had in it. It was brown too, so it would suffice. I took off my watch, jewelry, and anything else 20th-century (with the exception of my binoculars) and began my expedition towards the rocky hills. I needed an observation post and these would work nicely.

Once on top of the hills (much to my surprise) I could see a city across the ravine and a garden just beneath me. There were people in this garden and I didn't want to be seen, so I headed south down the side of the ravine. I found a nice concealed place to sit and spy on the city.

The first glaring clue of reference to 'point of time and place' I had, was a huge compound sprawling out from the center of the city. There was a large military installation with some type of religious fortress just south of it. I could see the swarms of civilians inside the mount of this complex (which was closest to me). The military fortress, on the other hand (which was actually of greater interest) was obstructed by tall walls and towers, so I couldn't really see inside of that.

Within the religious complex though were men, women, children, animals, carts, soldiers; you name it; everyone and his brother, sister and second cousin twice removed was there. It had several walled areas within the outer walls where different classes of people congregated. The furthest court had many, many visitors from all walks of life; rich and poor, all stirring about in a kind of super mega mall. The second segment was filled with women and young children and the innermost contained men only (mixed with adolescent boys of course). The very center housed a large stone structure with a heavy curtain that hung over it's entrance. As my eyes wandered across to the other side of this building, I noticed a huge outdoor altar where they evidently had a whopping barbecue going. Boy that's some temple. I thought to myself as I put the field glasses down and leaned back against a rock.

"Temple? Wait a minute!" I exclaimed, suddenly hit by the awesome revelation of where I was. Could it be? I wondered as I looked around.

Familiar sites began to take their place in history, a temple complex, a garden, olive trees, swarms of people and at least one gathering place outside the city gates. I'd noticed they burned things in this one local, but I wasn't sure exactly what it was?

Just beyond, another spot announced it's presence with some tree stumps sticking out of the ground. They weren't your ordinary stumps though, they were big and tall and some of them oddly shaped. I followed along till I saw one with a funny little beam across the top and then into my sight came small thin twigs. I suddenly felt sick and dropped the binoculars, as I realized it wasn't twigs I was looking at. It was body parts; arms, legs.

Was this Golgotha outside of Jerusalem?

This can't be real. I just knew it couldn't. This must be some weird dream. I said to myself, wondering why I hadn't woken up yet. I laid down for a brief minute to collect myself, for I was totally exhausted.

I suddenly opened my eyes in a bit of a panic. I figured I must've fallen asleep, because the sun had moved; (or rather the planet had moved). Either way, it was much later in the afternoon and I knew it would be dark soon. I decided my best bet was to gather up some supplies and spend the night up here with my friends the rocks. If anyone found my car, they wouldn't find me too. For if they found me, it could prove to be quite disastrous.

I'd successfully made it back to my little piece of hillside (sleeping bag and all) undetected. I unrolled 'camp' and organized my other creature comforts which I'd decided to bring along. I felt I really needed some music, so I packed up tapes, a player, some batteries, and a couple of different types of head phones along with a small portable speaker. It wasn't quite dark yet, so I had some time to spy on this... enigmatic city _(which was turning out to be not so... mystifying after all)_.

I figured I must be in sometime before 70 A.D., for the temple was still standing and I wondered who of the books of the New Testament I was about to meet?

Was He Himself still here and if so, was I really prepared to meet Him? I brooded as I seriously began to doubt my own readiness. I suppose if He was still physically present, I was going to at least see Him; whether I felt ready or not. I can't worry about that now. I told myself. He's always said He was forgiving and if I really believe that, then I had nothing to fear; for the desire for forgiveness was always in the forefront of my conscience.

I decided to put aside all of my anxious ruminating and sit and observe the city a while. If I was going to survive, I needed to know what people did in the first century. I watched them intently; every move they made. I watched how they dressed, how they carried themselves and who they walked with. I observed the layout of the city, where the markets were, along with the places of public assembly. I noticed who was going where, what streets they walked down and which they avoided. Who they stopped to pay tribute to and how they responded to those who looked to be in lesser authority. I especially watched the women. I knew I needed to be a good mimic if I wasn't going to get killed.

Finally it was dark, too dark to see anymore and besides the desert chill was setting in. I snuggled down into my sleeping bag, praying I'd awake from this strange nightmare and find myself in some Days Inn in the middle of Northern 20th Century America, where I belong.


	4. Close Encounter

**Close Encounter**

I awoke to the morning reveille of the sun mustering it's rays for the day's mission; disappointed that I was still 'here', wherever 'here' was. All I knew it wasn't where I reckoned I should be. I don't belong here. An uneasy trepidation crept in. What if I really am stranded in history? Can I change its course; or has my presence in the past already been accounted for in the future? I sat still a moment, realizing that if I really believed God was omniscient; then He knew where I was and maybe it didn't matter after all?

Any how! The task ahead seemed insurmountable. I had to find clothing and food; and with no plan of how to do so, I tried not to panic. It wasn't working though! Feeling overwhelmed and very afraid, I just laid there and cried. There didn't seem to be anything else I could think to do at that moment.

Suddenly, I heard the skittleing of stones rolling and bouncing down the hill. I knew they weren't very far away, so I moved with caution. I crawled over to a small crevice in the direction I figured this loose earth was skipping to. I hoped it was just an animal, though at that point, I'd wished I had a gun.

I grabbed my binoculars as I quietly crept up on the mysterious noise. Peeking around the rocks, I saw a man on the ledge below me about a hundred feet away. I peered at him through the scope of high power definition. He was unarmed and dressed very plainly; but also apparently having always been a civilian, for he had absolutely no knowledge of how to execute a covert mission. Well, you're certainly not a threat. I chuckled at his innocent un-stealthiness, as he glanced in my direction and then panned the horizon for something he didn't seem quite certain of.

He carried a satchel over his shoulder, which he took off and laid on a rock. His demeanor was calm as he stood, seemingly waiting for something? He glanced back in my direction one last time, before walking away from the satchel. I watched until he was all the way to the bottom and heading back toward the city.

I wondered who he was and how he seemed to know I was here? I must be within the time frame of the writing of the New Testament; I reasoned, because if I wasn't, no-one would have received any revelation that I even existed. This man must have somehow been directed by God, I finally decided; so therefore he must be trustworthy.

With a deep breath and some newly encouraged reassurance, I went to check out this satchel. Crawling down into a place where I could see it better, yet still cautious; I picked up a rock and threw it at this mysterious bag. It landed with a dull thud in the middle of the sack and since nothing happened, I was pretty confident it didn't contain any surprises. Relieved that the prospects looked good, I crawled down the rest of the way, retrieved the satchel and climbed back up into my hiding place.

Curiosity was now eating my brain, as I sat fiddling with the latchets, seeming nearly desperate to get them apart. I was finally successful and carefully opened the bag for my first peek at it's contents: clothing, food, and an animal skin bottle of some sort. How could this be I marveled, now even a little frightened by such unexpected details. All my needs were in this bag and how, or why was just beyond my comprehension.

Once I could finally stop perseverating over how this satchel came into my possession, I was ready to take the next step. I hurriedly exchanged my clothes and crept back down the hill toward the road. I paused for one last minute, contemplating eating this little meal before I abandon the bag altogether. The food seemed good and there was plenty of it. I was just too nervous to get it into my mouth and passed the fear of choking on it. A little voice kept advising me to calm down, slow down and take it easy; but I didn't want to listen. Finally, with a deep breath _and the goading of a little recognized virtue called common sense,_ I quieted enough to sit and eat breakfast.

After I finished, I came to the conclusion that this little reprieve really was a good idea, for now I felt better. I wasn't necessarily less antsy, but at least I could think more clearly. I sat a while pondering whether I should go into the city to see if I could locate this man, or just wait for him to return? After all, he was the one who knew where I was; I didn't know where he was. The answer was obvious, so I sat and waited.

I peered around with my binoculars, hoping I'd find him somewhere in the crowds. I finally spotted him in the garden outside the city talking to another man. They were quite similarly dressed (same cultural tailor) and the other man looked a bit younger than he. Who were they? I still wondered.

For fear of losing him again, I hurriedly stuffed my binoculars into the bag, wedged it into a crevice of rock and cautiously crept down through the rocks and stepped out onto the road. I was trembling all over, feeling like some character out of a Star Trek movie, who'd just been beamed to the surface of a strange planet.

I felt torn from all things familiar when I left my last remnants of the 20th Century stuffed in that bag back behind a rock. I felt naked without all the technology I'd grown so accustomed to. I never ever imagined I could feel so unconnected before.

As I headed toward the garden, the curious glances of the other passers by made me self-conscious. I was considerably lighter skinned than most everyone else, so I wrapped my headpiece around my face and stared at the ground as I walked. Once they had passed, I looked up to see where the man was. He was gone! I took a deep breath, trying to convince myself not to panic; _but it wasn't working._ I stalled, walking slower and slower, scanning the horizon and everyone in front of me for this mysterious stranger. I couldn't find him.

I finally came to a stand still and quickly turned around, thinking the best place for me to go was back to my rock. No one seemed to notice that I had u-turned and was now walking the other way; so for that I was relieved, although I fought hard with the urge to run and take a diving leap back into my hiding place. _If anything would make a scene - the 'sliding into first base move' would certainly be it!_ It was a real challenge to keep control over my pace, for I knew that if I kept my steps moderate and even, I wouldn't arouse suspicion.

Just as I was approaching my familiar rocky friends, I felt a tug on my sleeve as I passed someone I wasn't paying attention to. I quickly turn my head and watched a minute as the stranger kept walking. 'Come'. He motioned with his arm as I suddenly noticed he again had the satchel. I recognized his clothing and wondered how could I have missed that. It was him!

I followed him into the city, still wondering who he was? Was it someone from the early church, someone I'd recognize? The thoughts flipped through my mind like the pages of a Bible, as I mentally tried to log all who passed between the books from Matthew to Revelation. I had no idea what year this actually was, so trying to judge by the looks of this man (who must've been nigh on 40) wasn't turning into a very productive endeavor.

Could this actually be HIM? A preposterous suggestion suddenly popped into my head; causing my feet to stall.

Naw! I dismissively chuckled as I continued walking. The notion now stirring of how, if this really was Jesus, he didn't look anything like... Jesus. _Not that we know what Jesus looked like_. I reminded myself. Except we all assume from some passage in Isaiah that he was rather... aesthetically unappealing?

Well, if that's the case? I finally decided, than this probably wasn't Jesus, since though he lacked... the primal substance of animal magnetism, he wasn't revolting either. No, this fellow was very unassumingly ... monochromatic; like the neutral flavor of...distilled water.

I slowed a little as we drew near the gate, watching out of the corner of my eye as people emerged from the city. I peered over at the faces, some wrinkled and worn, while others still bearing a youthful resemblance despite the scorching sun and the wicked winds that carried what I could only describe as 'living sandpaper' through the city streets.

Oh yes, the environmental hazards of this place to one's face and body were quite evident. Even after only being here a whole 24 hours, it felt like it might as well have been 1000 years. I pondered as these faces didn't really look any different than the ones I passed during the war; some... 2000 years later? I began to wonder as I quickened my pace again; how old are these people - really?

I almost walked into my stranger friend, before I realized he had paused a minute to wait for me. He'd stopped almost in mid stride with his face turned back, looking over his shoulder. He seemed a little wrinkled and worn himself. I noticed as I finally took the few seconds offered to study this face before he turned around again and continued walking. _Little did I realize at the time, this same expression would remain burned in my memory all the rest of the days of my earthly life._ Who is he? I began again to wonder as I noticed we were passing onto a different road surface.

This road was stone, soon to be changing to wood as we were quickly approaching a bridge. As we continued to walk; the first clue to what year it actually was, surfaced into my line of sight. It didn't dawn on me until much later though, as we passed this landmark in history.

Why don't they cut that thing down? I chuckled to myself as I reached up and grabbed a branch off of this obviously very dead tree. The branch broke off in my hand and I stood a minute looking at it, for I don't think I'd ever seen a tree so dry and brittle. I snapped the branch and looked at the wood; while I found myself hurrying as to not lose this man. No termites, no rot, nothing - it's just a very... dead. I caught myself mumbling as I looked up and noticed the stranger was again standing and waiting for me. "Sorry." I squeaked out an apology, as I tossed the branch aside and hurried over.

We paused to pay a toll at the bridge before we crossed over and began our ascent up the sloping hill to the gate. The traffic was getting much more dense, as we inched our way up to the city. There were merchants and people with herds of animals and carts and so on and such like; all waiting in line to pass the guards who stood poised by a giant wooden door which entered the western gate of the city. The Peace Bridge to Canada! I chuckled to myself as we too stood in a line of 'pedestrian only' traffic. Hum, how some things never change. I began to ponder as I looked down the long line of first century tractor trailer trucks waiting to cross the border.

I observed carefully as the people before us passed through the guard posts, up to a second set of gates on their way into the city. I watched what they did and the soldiers' responses to them. It didn't seem that tricky nor sophisticated, as people answered questions, gathered up their traveling companions and followed the soldiers' pointing fingers. It wasn't long until we were next, as my stranger friend grabbed my arm, pulled me toward him, said a few words to the guards and we were on our way. That was easy. I shrugged as I glanced back at them a minute and kept climbing the stairs.

As we passed through a third gate onto another walk way, I tried my best to be discreet about looking around. I was now taken by curiosity instead of tortured by fear. I felt kind of like a tourist, or maybe more like a foreign ambassador (one from the 20th Century possibly) instead of a soldier caught behind enemy lines.

Even in all of this hospitality though, I was still wondering how I was going to get home. I found myself fervently praying that it be not God's will I spend the rest of my life in the first century. I had too many problems of my own. I couldn't deal with the challenges of living in a foreign society, especially one that was 2000 years behind the times. This thought so overwhelmed me that I found myself fighting back the tears.

We'd come to series of wider human highways, as we passed several herders with carts and venders on the side of this... _(sort of)_... road? _It was more like the throughway at a state fair than a 'road' per say_. There were people outside cooking what looked like a spicy soup and bread. It smelled good. I sucked in the wafting aromas, as I glanced back in the direction I was going, just to make sure I didn't lose my guide.

I hurried along behind him and we kept walking, when I was suddenly caught aghast by one man snapping a whip at another, who was barely clad in a loin cloth. I stood and stared, when I felt my friend take my arm and gently pull me along, until we passed this incident that was brewing. This other man was obviously a slave; and I, coming from a time where slavery had been outlawed for almost 150 years, was jolted by the sight.

What a cruel place. I thought, as I walked along; the stranger still holding my hand while I was rather caught up in staring at everyone and everything I passed. He'd pulled my arm up under his and tucked my hand around his elbow, while holding it in place with his other, so as I wouldn't wander off again.

We'd been walking this 'fair ground' when we came upon the outer marketplace of the temple. As we passed the edifice of this complex, the golden doors to the outer most gate were open and I could see into the court yards, clear up the steps to part of one of the alters.

Beyond that, towered the temple building itself with its impressive blue, red and golden threaded curtain; decorated with... creatures. Exodus instructed the people to dress this veil with cherubim.

 _Not the cutesie chubby cheeked winged children we find in Victorian cemeteries._ No... that wasn't ... _exactly_ what was up there. _Actually, wasn't even close._ These cherubim more resembled the four winged, crowned men with lion's bodies that would be seen guarding Babylonian palaces.

I remembered reading in a museum blurb, that the Greeks had their own version of this called a Griffen and the Egyptian's had the Sphinx. So if the ark of the covenant (also having cherubim on its lid), is actually in there? _Which I'd read centuries later that it wasn't._ I wonder what it looks _...or looked,_ like?

With mind distracted by theological questions asked centuries later; I began a second round of pondering if the 'ark of the covenant' was the one actually holding my hand?

Nah! I shook the thoughts away again. That would be too... ironic. Yet, would it not make sense, if the next time the temple was rebuilt and 'I AM' was to 'tabernacle among them'; would the 'presence of the Lord' be conspicuously absent in the absence of the ark Moses made? Intriguing question, since the presence of God was stated in Exodus to be connected to the mercy seat and not the structure that housed it. Hum? _This made me want to sneak off and go see 'what's behind curtain number one'?_

My mind turned back to our current path, as we snaked through the crowds transversing what I'd later come to learn was Solomon's Porch.

Other's we passed stared at me, for I must've struck them as mighty foreign. I was a pale, tall, (or at least to this sample of humanity) woman who probably weighed more than many of the men; as I was about the same size as the fellow in front of me. I tried to mind my clumsy feet and not gawk so much, when I noticed we were being trailed by two men in long robes and striped shawls; who'd seemed to me, to have been stalking us the past two blocks; as we exited the complex and passed into the streets of the lower city.

They looked rather ridiculous hovering around us with little leather boxes strapped to their foreheads; like genetically mutated hornets who's stingers were growing out of the wrong end! One ranted on, waving his arms and yelling at this man for... I guess, holding my hand? _Ehhh, not sure how ya's managed to miss others engaged in this apparently objectionable behavior; but anyways?_ This made about as much sense as a pet cockroach. The 'Bull-sha-viks' went on as far as... until one got in my face!

He mumbled some gibberish and grabbed my head scarf; in which I just automatically hauled off and decked him! I hit him so hard, he staggered away stunned, stepping on his own robe and tripping himself. He stumbled backwards until his feet came right out from under him and he landed flat on his back.

 _Damn commies!_ I tried real hard not to laugh, as his friend ran to his aid wearing a look a fearful panic. My newly found companion only shook his head, as he took my arm up again and kept walking.

Several minutes passed in silence, while I wondered if we both would be in big trouble for what I'd just done; when we heard a woman's voice. "Rab-bo' -ni! Rab-bo' -ni!" She yelled. "Koo' -ree-os!" "Ooh-wo! Ooh-woo!" She was waving her arms frantically when I finally noticed her, before she scurried around a group of meandering pedestrians. I know those words? I puzzled as she came jogging up to us.

"Koo' -ree-os." I mumbled to myself. "Kury -a", Kyrie. Kyrie Eleison... down this road that I must travel..." The woman stopped and they both looked at me.

"Kyrie Eleison?" I repeated, wondering if that made any sense to them.

"Kyrie, Kristos, Christ. Eli, Eli, lama sabach' thani." I said as the woman stared in puzzled awe, while the stranger's gaze only slowly sunk to the ground. Apparently they both understood _what_ I said, but the meaning seemed to totally fly right over her head?

"...lama sabach' thani..." I mumbled again as my eyes drifted over toward the hand now rather tightly clenched around mine. Without moving a muscle, my eyes followed up his sleeve to his face. He looked... terrified?

"Ihh..ih..t.. It is ... You." I gasped as I slowly picked up the hand that was cleaved to mine. I quickly turned the other way in my own sense of terrified panic. I wanted to run, but I couldn't move. My thoughts whirled around in a cyclone of confused fragments.

My life passed before my eyes in sound bites from a compilation of unrelated news casts, clipped up and left scattered across the studio floor. Old news; I tried to wiggle my fingers loose, but He wouldn't let go. I tried not to panic as the thought rolled through my conscience: Uh, Ya don't really wanna be holding that hand, especially since You must know where it's been.

I wasn't sure if I was nauseous, angry or just plain scared; but I was beginning to notice my fidgeting had caught the attention of this other woman. I was trying my hardest to ignore both of them, as I could tell the conversation had probably turned to me; for I could sense them periodically glancing in my direction. I began to creep further and further away, trying to distance myself from the fact that they must be able to see the tears trickling down my face. I wiped my eyes several times as I inched my way behind...Jesus.

The name stuck in my head like a spike stabbed into my ear and all I could think about were nails and crucifixion. There's no-one who really should want to die for my sorry existence. I could hear the voice in my head, as I wondered how serious He was about me and this whole redemption thing? After all, could I ever be that lucky? I feared as Bible verses started reeling through my head like an old fashioned movie projector gone haywire.

 **'And you shall call his name Jesus for he shall save _his_ people from their sin.'**

 **'according as _he has chosen_ us in him from before the foundations of the world.'**

 **'many are called, _few are chosen_ '**

Could one of those chosen please be me? I pleaded as I stood there among my jumbled tape of thoughts, all squished together in a heap on the news room floor of my life.

I took a deep breath wondering how much He really had invested in this tragic news clip; one of so many stories deemed interesting enough for either the tragedy or stupidity of their subjects? All to be chewed up and spit out by countless strangers passing the 6 o'clock hour; another broken family, child abuse statistic, drunk teen who drove into a tree, or dead veteran buried in the Saudi desert someplace.

So many stories lost to time in that one day they just happened to make the evening news. What a waste of human life, flooding down the abyss into the place where they are never seen or heard from again.

"Arbeit Macht Frei" The gates of the camp proclaimed.

No it doesn't! The voices screamed in my head. The wages of sin are death!

My digressing sand storm of plummeting thoughts was suddenly silenced when I felt my body being yanked back from whence I'd crept off too. Dragged back into the present, or the past, or... what ever this was? I stopped short, knowing now I was staring at the face of Eternal God.

He looked at me a moment and muttered some word I could only imagine was some variant of "stay"; as He let go of my hand and went searching through His clothing for something. He pulled out a small coin purse and some funny contraption that looked like a key of sorts? He handed them to this woman along with some instructions that I couldn't understand.

'Who is this man that even the wind obeys his voice' The words of Peter (who's name I'd thought I'd heard) wafted past my ears.

'Forget the wind Pete.' I muttered to myself. 'What about the sinner who obeys His voice? It's a little harder to get people dead in trespass and sin to listen!'

When their interchange had ended and the woman started back down the road in the other direction, this stranger (who suddenly wasn't so strange any more) caught my attention with a little shake of my arm. He was holding on again, I realized as He tucked my hand back up under his elbow. "Ma'ry, Mar'thah, Lad' -zar-os" He said as He gestured at the women who was halfway down the street. "Mar'thah".


	5. Time Warped Child

**Time Warped Child**

I was absently minding Martha, when my thoughts were suddenly interrupted. Come, Jesus motioned with a slight tug as He took up my arm and continued walking. As soon as His fingers came in contact with my flesh, my thoughts automatically jumped back to the assumption that I didn't think He wanted to be holding my dirty hand. Well, no... I attempted to reassure myself, as I tried to chase the little demons away; all the while fretting over every little thing that just happened.

What are you, a pervert? The words came echoing back from a time so long ago. No...? I remember a (not so certain) little girl attempt to defend herself. No. NO. **NO!** Her adult counterpart screamed as the whole scenario replayed in my head like the grainy 8mm home movies of holidays my dad used to take.

I was nine years old, laying in front of the television while my brother sat in dad's chair behind me. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what he was really up to, for my brother had a certain _problem_ he never could keep to himself.

Mom was walking through the living room on her way up stairs, when Rock called her over to look at something. "It's probably just an ingrown hair." Mom said as I jumped up to see what they were looking at.

"No!" My brother sneered as he glared at me and made the inference: "What are you, a pervert?"

I stood shocked by the question, as I battled in my mind over what all this meant. But, but, but... what about? I stumbled over my own attempts to reconcile this accusation with the fact that my brother often wanted me to see much more than just a stupid pimple. What is going on, that you all the sudden act like I've done something wrong? I wondered as I looked at him and then at my mother.

So this is how you treat me now, when someone else is looking? I concluded as I peered up at mom one last time. Mom only made some comment that it really wasn't something I needed to see and then went up stairs. Oh mom, if you only knew! The thought popped into my head as I watched her leave.

For an instant, just for an instant; I almost spoke up. It was the closest I'd ever remembered _(at that time)_ to telling mom about Rock's little _problem_ while it was going on.

I don't remember what I did after that, but I can sure remember how I felt. There wasn't anything on the planet that was lower than me. It's a feeling that, although I'd felt it many times since; words don't do it justice. What ever bit of compassion I'd ever had for myself was gone in an instant and any other sense of well being quickly drained away with it. This stabbing wound slowly bled out the soul of a little girl I barely recognized any more.

It was but only a few short years before I seriously considered slitting my own throat to give back to earth my mortal existence; since it really did seem what ever life I once had, was now gone. Besides, I was so sure there must be someone more worthy of the air I was breathing than me.

Those feelings stuck with me from that point on. I realized, as I still found myself struggling with them. Was I still a nothing in this world that was so much lower than any other nothing that resided here? I wondered as 'what is man that You are mindful of him' swirled around in my head. I knew God didn't _have_ to care for any of us, but this was the first time I started to question why I always assumed I was so much worse off than anyone else?

I peered over at Jesus, who'd stopped to scan the new road we'd just come upon; seemingly trying to decipher which direction would be the best to go? The crowds were thinning and He was apparently intent on finding ... someone's house? I figured as He appeared to be counting buildings that stretched up a narrow deserted street, looking to be in the 'better part of town'. We started up this road about a block or two when He stoped at another little path, mentally logging more houses. These looked to be the residences of Roman merchants, skilled tradesmen and high ranking military.

I just waited quietly while my eyes wandered down to the hand that held mine tucked up under His arm, as the word 'pervert' kept ringing in my ears. We'd only taken a few steps when Jesus paused a moment and let go of my hand. I was so sure He must have heard me, as I struggled with the premonition that He could some how read my every thought. He has to know! I cringed as I started to shrink away with a certain self loathing, when He suddenly did something that left me speechless and dumbfounded.

He reached down between His legs, pulled His tunic away from His body, swiveled around from the hips a bit like a wooden marinate doll and shook His legs out. After this, He just stretched out His hand to take up mine and resume our journey. I only stood there staring, evidently with a certain look of horror before He realized what I was so shocked over.

He squinted in mild confusion; for though it seemed He figured out _what_ had caused me such a jolt, He either wasn't grasping why, or it never bothered Him in the first place? He cocked His head as He pulled back the outer layers of clothing from His shoulder and pointed to the Kethoneth that laid against His skin. Yeah, I have one of those too? I puzzled as He took the satchel off, loosed part of the cloak that was swaddled around His abdomen and began wiggling His torso.

What are you doing? I glared at Him as I watched the cloak hang out over His arms and the rest of his garments swung freely from the shoulder down in the opposite direction from which His body was moving; sort of like a dog's coat when he shakes the water out.

"Oh, I get it." I finally sighed in mortified embarrassment as I realized Jesus had a complication with His attire that I did not; thanks to an invention from the Renaissance. "Yeah, you people don't have underpants." I mumbled to myself as I tried not to look to obviously at Him; that I now understood what He'd done was not some obscene gesture, but only because the wind had blown His clothing into crevices of His body where He didn't want it.

Yeah, I can see where that would be less than pleasant. I squinted as I hid my eyes and rubbed my forehead trying to distract myself from imagining what was under all those layers of clothing. I must have looked some ghastly variant of schizophrenic, as floods of tears dripped down my smirking face. This didn't seem fair. Why did life sting so much?

"Sorry, sorry." I apologized as I collected myself best I could before I glanced over, noticing that He still looked a little bewildered. "No, no. I don't have that problem too." I answered in response to what I thought His expression seemed to be asking. "You know, Fruit of the Loom." I tried to explain, but the only response I could elicit was a shrug.

We both stood there a minute, when I finally concluded that He really didn't know. But aren't You suppose to know everything? I began to wonder as I peered down at the ground, now questioning what I thought I knew about the omniscience of God? Could there be things Jesus _**didn't**_ know? I shuddered.

He stood watching a moment or two as I got that much more tangled up in my confusion and despair before He reassembled His garb, picked up the bag, let out a sigh and extended His hand once again. I looked at this hand that was waiting for mine with wiggling fingers, when He seemed to almost crack a giggle as He grabbed my arm. 'Come on' He huffed; seemingly somewhere between amused and annoyed as He continued on.


	6. Kiss the Son

**Kiss the Son**

We'd only taken about a dozen steps when my head started to spin, as several episodes of vertigo suddenly assailed me like the whirlwinds of a sand storm. Not now! I whined as I staggered around and finally toppled over, nearly taking Jesus down with me.

Here was yet one more side effect of serving my country; the ever infamous, yet mysteriously elusive Gulf War Syndrome. That which plagues the veteran, yet supposedly does not exist - or at least according to Uncle Sam. I took a deep breath as my head began to pound. I tried to brace myself for I could tell more was coming.

This was all too familiar. I sighed as a string of bad experience from that alternate reality called war began to surface. I was about to have an anxiety attack, or worse; some sort of flash back. The heat, the smell and the sand that stung my eyes; triggering a chain reaction of terror.

I attempted to prepare myself, for this sort of thing had happened before. I took a few deep breaths and tried not to panic as I hesitated to open my eyes; fearing the next thing I would see was some smelly, dirty, barefoot Iraqi pointing a rusty AK-47 at me and screaming in Arabic that ... I guess he was going to blow my head off?

I waited for the beating and the threats, expecting the worst as I felt for wherever my arms were? Much to my surprise I could move them quite freely. I realized as I jumped to my feet and thrust my hands out to shield my face. There was nothing but silence as I waited for the rattle of machine gun fire that never came.

Almost as quickly as it had been there, it was gone. I opened my eyes.

Right before my face was that of someone I knew I recognized, but at that moment, just couldn't quite place. I swallowed hard and began to sweat as it all came flooding back to me. This is supposed to be Jesus Christ. I vaguely remembered as I tried to convince myself that this was just another bizarre twist of the subconscious from the world of PTSD. I let out an unsettled chuckle as I stared my hallucination in the eye, waiting for the moment when my brain would just pop Him out of existence.

He's not going away?! I blinked several times in befuddled irratation as I let out a growl and gave Him a shove. He leaned to one side as I attempted to push Him away, but much to my surprise, He could not be moved. I gave it one more 'college try' and my persistence, well... _(sort of)_ paid off; when Jesus lost His balance. Much to my dissatisfaction though, so did I! I lunged so hard, I landed on top of Him and bumped my head on the hard packed dusty clay road.

When I came back to reality; _(whatever the... eh.. that means)_ I noticed Jesus was just sitting in the street, propped up on His hands, with His legs out in front of Him and me in His lap. I pushed myself up, still dazed by the headache my little encounter with the clay bricks created, as I cast a forlorn glare at Him. I must have knocked some sense into my own head, for it was then that I realized, I either have a very vivid (and unshakable) imagination, or this really wasn't a dream!

I sat quietly rubbing the egg on my forehead, when I noticed Jesus get up. I wonder if He's just going to walk away and leave me here? I questioned, since it didn't seem that I was the one who really wanted Him around. Much to my surprise though, He stepped over me; squatted down, reaching under my arms, He took hold of my wrists and hoisted me to my feet.

Yeah, I recognize that move... My hazy thoughts mulled over this technique that was very familiar to me, as I'd used it many times myself while working in the group homes; SCIP - strategies for crisis intervention and prevention; one person lift.

Very good, You even did it right... My muddy thoughts scampered around the inside of my skull as I attempted to figure out what had just happened. In another moment they were gone, when another reality dawned on me.

This 'dream' was way to physically involved to be only my imagination. I muttered silently as the sheer force He exerted against the ground in order to pick me up remained imprinted upon my body. I usually didn't cope well with being shifted around under a power other than my own determination. I tried to calm myself as I peered over at Him. My heart was pounding in my ears as I was caught somewhere between embarrassed and ... adrenaline rush? I swallowed hard as I stood there watching to see what He would do next.

I almost expected Him to slap me for the thoughts and feelings that were stirring up inside; but He only stood patiently waiting, looking around a bit, like the answer to what ever He should do next, was to be floating around in the air somewhere. He wandered a few paces, stopped a moment and looked back at me. I couldn't decide if I was angry, confused or... overwhelmed with the impulse to do something I'd probably regret? What was obvious, yet oddly puzzling though, was that Jesus was... a little... lost?

I managed to resist the urge to run up to Him and ... _I suddenly realized that I didn't even know what I would have done?_ When He just walked over to the side of the road and... sat down. I stood there for what seemed like... half an eon of time? Although I knew only a minute or so had expired, if even that.

So I padded over and just stood there as He sat with His chin in His elbow, plucking at what looked like sheaves of foxtail grass that were creeping up through the pavers. I finally let out a sigh and plopped down too.

I didn't want to be too close, or too far away, just in case my brain went haywire again. It was starting to sink in, that what ever this reality was, it was real to me, right here and right now regardless of all my stupid confused feelings. I had no idea what to say, as it seemed it wouldn't matter, because I'd reckoned that we couldn't understand each other anyways.

Then I thought... ** _I'd_** be OK if I could just throw my arms around Him and hug and kiss Him, but I got the distinct impression that probably wasn't going to work for Him. So I sat and stared into someone's back yard, listening to Him breath, plucking up pieces of grass and just generally moving around. He seemed so incredibly human to me; almost too mortal.

Time passed on that obscure clock who's hands never move; while my thoughts tracked back to my stupid brother's pervert comment. This whole damned thing that sent me off on this rabbit trail from the first shot of the racers' pistol. Speaking of guns... I muttered angrily.

Yet innocent and seemingly so shy... _little_ Jesus was still occupying His time weaving sheaves of foxtails into...? I had no idea what He was doing, other than probably killing time; _(did I just hear another pistol shot?)_ but He'd managed to knot together a chain of grass that He seemed intent on making something out of?

 _Little_ yes. I observed as I watched Him out of the corner of my eye, pluck up stalks to add to His... creation? If You were 3 inches taller and 25 pounds heavier, I'd probably be afraid of You. The thought blew through my vacant mind like the wind howling down the halls of the abandon asylum I'd visited in Germany some... how many centuries ago now? Was I more frightened of my own insanity than eternal God sitting next to me? I glanced over at Jesus, who had turned all the way around and was now pulling little nettle flowers out of the drainage rut, which passed beneath our feet.

Although admittedly so, I had to confess. I was still afraid of Him, just not for the rather small human male that He was.

He was so plain and unassuming (as well as... busy; at current). Not particularly stern and serious like the grim depictions we've all received from the hands of Medieval artists. _The Christ that apparently can't smile, yet looks oh so serene in the depth of the most horrendous form of execution humanity has ever invented?_ Yeah! Can someone say - Dissociative Identity Disorder!

Well, the Christ sitting next to me was almost giggling. He'd created something that looked kind of like the pot holders I'd weave on plastic looms when I was a kid. He was holding it up in the air, while preoccupied with trying to hook the tiny spider swaying in the breeze from it's delicate single strand of web.

God, Your Son is easily entertained. I smirked as I watched this act play out. _'Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall not see the kingdom of heaven.'_ Well, that wasn't exactly what I was expecting either!

 _Little_ Jesus seemed pretty contented with Himself that He'd set the spider free. _Great PETA advertisement there._ I shook my head in a bit of caustic amusement. You are _almost_ cute. The compliment slid through my mind, although the irony of the modesty of prestige He displayed both in physical appearance, as well as personal charisma was not lost on me.

 _'Then said the chief priests of the Jews to Pilate; write not King of the Jews...'_ For of course they don't want this man as their king; any more than we in America would ever elect You as president. Yeah, I get it now. I peered almost smugly at Jesus. _'What would you have me to do with him who you call king of the Jews?'_ Pilate was being quite the snarky fellow there wasn't he?

Yet, You are different than any of us want to believe; aren't You. My mind spoke to Him, but He didn't seem to be paying attention. Uncomplicated; unaccomplished; unnoticeable; of the averages for Your time and culture - You are just that - Average! Average in height, weight, looks, hygiene, style, the size of Your feet...

If we were to assign You an emoticon it might be: : |

 ** _"He shall ascend as a sapling before His face, the prime root out of dry ground; having no form or majesty so that when we see him there is nothing apparent that we should desire to exalt him."_**

But even so, for some strange reason; I still find You appealing. _I'm not sure why?_ I let out a sigh as Jesus just instinctively leaned over, put an arm around my shoulder and gave me an encouraging sideways hug. Halfway battling a migraine, I leaned on His shoulder a moment, when He did another astonishing thing and kissed the top of my head. I sat up and looked at Him.

He straitened himself a bit more properly and shrugged apologetically as He seemed a little unsure as to how I'd taken His affection. Well... He soon got His answer when I impulsively grabbed Him by the cloak, pulled Him toward me and kissed Him.

Woah! He started flailing, apparently not expecting to have elicited **_that_** sort of response. I let go and sat for a moment, mortified by my own behavior when He suddenly burst out laughing.

Not really sure if / or what was so funny, I just sat there. Jesus began to talk, although seemingly not to me. I wasn't sure if He was praying or... talking to Himself? Does God talk to Himself? The question ran around in my head as 'Let us make man in our image' followed. Yeah... I guess God does talk to Himself. I shrugged, still more than a bit embarrassed by all this.

"Elohim" Jesus said as He pointed to Himself, the Father and swirled His finger in the air until He poked me in the shoulder. "El Ruach." He smiled.

I sat and looked at Him a minute before it registered what He was talking about. God plural, Spirit of God and He pokes me?

"Holy Ghost." I mumbled.

"Yea." He confirmed as He smacked me in the arm and leaned over to draw a picture in the dust on the road. He drew a line across a couple of the bricks and than drew a cross above the line. You, He poked at me and then drew a stick figure way over on the right side of the line, before He put His finger down right on the left side of the cross He'd drawn. "Ruach Ha-Kodesh" He said as He put His other finger on the right side of the cross and drew a line through the stick figure.

"But I'm not suppose to be here." I mumbled as I knew He was pointing out, that since the Holy Spirit hadn't been poured out yet in this time line; I was the only person on this planet indwelled by... Him.

"Ruach Ha-Kodesh" Jesus exclaimed as He reached out, put His arms around me and affectionally squeezed me. I guess if there was ever a time the Son wanted to hug the Spirit, I was His opportunity. I mulled over in my head a moment, unsure if this was actually funny or not? So I just hugged Him back. Well, I guess being kissed by someone indwelled by the Holy Spirit wasn't so awkward either. I sighed ... except to me.

Jesus let out a contented giggle as He let go and composed Himself again.

But how does this happen if You said the Spirit couldn't come until You went back to heaven? I started to wonder. Or maybe it was more a matter of semantics and not being particularly expedient to remove an Entity I couldn't live without? Maybe this has to be a dream; because it doesn't seem to quite add up? I pondered some more.

Yet if this is somehow... real? I glanced over at Jesus as He got up out of the road and dusted Himself off. I guess it answers the question about my redemption.

Judicially speaking at least; I'm not dirty any more.


	7. Romans of Ancient America

**Romans of Ancient America**

Jesus extracted me from the rut in the road and continued strolling up the path, apparently still looking for something. I followed along, not feeling quite so self conscious, yet still struggling with frightening longings I attempted to stuff back down into the depths of some place where I wished they'd just disappear.

I couldn't help but look at Him as He walked. He being preoccupied with finding some elusive street, while I was preoccupied with the motion of His form through space. I'd watch His clothing bluster in the wind as it would hug one side of His body, flittering out in the opposite direction and than calming as the wind would shift. He'd stop periodically to unstick His Kethoneth and then just move on as if nothing had happened. It was almost funny to watch.

Well, apparently Jesus had found what He was looking for as He hurried up a walk way and knocked on a door. Come. He motioned as I scurried up behind Him. The door creaked open and a soldier, who immediately recognized Jesus bowed and welcomed us in.

"Centurion Cornelius, Sir!" The soldier called as he hurried back toward the court yard announcing that apparently Cornelius had a visitor. Another older man in military uniform emerged through the pillars into my line of sight. They all greeted each other as I just stood looking around at all the interesting objects in the front hall. There were helmets, pieces of armor and weapons strategically stored neatly in cubby holes, on pedestals and hanging on the walls.

I wasn't paying attention to the people, but more to the swords and spears when I felt Jesus take my arm and introduce me to them. "Kath-reen." I heard Him explain although my name was the only thing I understood.

[Yes, I need a place to keep her until tonight. Then I will send John to bring her to the house of Simon who had Leprosy.]

[Are You going to the temple Lord? Does she not want to hear You preach?]

[She can't understand me. She comes from a very far away country. She was in an army in a war not too long ago, has soldier's heart... and a bit of a temper.] Jesus cracked a subdued chuckle. [She already punched a Pharisee and I need to keep her out of trouble.]

[Really? I like her already.] The soldiers laughed. [Which legion Lord? Do I know them?]

[No, not Rome. She is from beyond the great sea. Beyond the greater sea.]

[You mean there is an army beyond Rome?] They laughed again.

[Yes, far beyond Rome.]

[Was she an archer, or swordsman? Maybe she would like to spar with Helina?]

[Oh, I'm not even sure she would know how to use your weapons?]

[Not know the sword?]

[Yes, her country is very different. Soldiers fly in the sky like birds and they have fire that... makes earthquakes and burns so hot it can make cities vanish.]

[How is this so Lord?]

[I'm not sure?] Jesus flashed a perplexed expression. [My Father has given them the ability to understand much of how this world is constructed. What He has meant for good, men use for evil.]

[I'd like to hear more about this army. What did she tell You? Will she tell me? How do soldiers fly like birds?]

[Well, she is from so far away that she can not understand any of us.]

[Not even Latin?]

[She knows a few words, but none of these languages are spoken in her country.]

[Can You understand her?]

[Only by inference, but language - no.]

[Did she come from the stars?]

[No.] Jesus laughed. [She is of the first Adam. Just from very... very, very far away.]

The old soldier looked at me, rubbing his chin.

[Is she come from the end Lord?]

[I don't know when the end is.] Jesus shook His head and shrugged haplessly. [But she is closer to it than you are.]

"Hum." The old soldier nodded.

[Well, we will keep her from punching any more Pharisees.] He laughed.

[Thank you.]

Jesus nodded to them as the old soldier kissed Him in a traditional Italian departure, just before He turned to leave the house. I tried to follow, but Jesus stopped to indicate; No, you stay here. But I don't want to stay here. My thoughts objected. I want to go with You;... but I obediently stayed put.

"Please don't leave me here!" My voice cracked out into the silence.

Jesus stopped and turned around; seemingly trying to figure out how to make me understand. He just stood looking at me for a moment, before He took the the satchel off and then His cloak. He wrapped the cloak around me in reassurance that I will see Him again because obviously, He wants His cloak back. He then handed Cornelius the satchel before He turned and departed.

The latch clicked shut as the soldiers all watched me stare at the closed door. I only stood there looping my arms though the cloak and wiping my tears with my sleeve. I pulled the cloak up around my face and sucked in a deep breath. It smelled like Him. I stood in silence as I couldn't stop the tears from dripping down my face.

Cornelius...sir; stepped up into my peripheral line of vision before he carefully taped me on the arm. Yeah, combat vet, I peered over at him as my thoughts floated down the corridors of time. Ancient Rome or Desert Storm, smart move not to sneak up on soldiers with PTSD. I turned around as Cornelius held out a hand to welcome me into his atrium.

The other soldier pulled up some chairs for us, as I noticed two other young men were peering out from an adjoining room where they were cleaning armor. Cornelius called to them and gave them some instructions as they began to put their cleaning supplies and armor away.

It didn't take long for me to realize this was a household of soldiers; of which I saw only two other women pass through the far doorway. Cornelius called out to them too. He did his best to explain to me who the members of his household were, but I'd only gathered far enough to figure that the older woman is his wife, the girl named Helina his daughter, and the soldier who answered the door is named Horatio.

Cornelius let out a perplexed sigh as he set the satchel on the table. Objects clattering inside caught his attention as he separated the flaps and peered in. A puzzled expression overtook him as he plucked out a piece of 20th century audio hardware. He raised an eyebrow as he held up a portable speaker.

I walked over and opened the bag the rest of the way, pulling out objects and laying them on the table.

"I feel like I'm breaking the Prime Directive." I mumbled to myself as I began to assemble some of these items.

I looked to see what's in the bottom of the bag (besides clothing) as I pulled out an audio cassette I'd recorded myself and inserted it into the player. The household gathered around, as I hit the rewind button. It took about 30 seconds to back up to the beginning of the first song. I pushed play, the music started and a few bars later, Michael Card began to sing:

 **El Shaddai, El Shaddai, El-Elyon na Adonai**

(The people standing around the table immediately recognized it as Hebrew.)

 **Age to age You're still the same. By the power of the Name.**

(They leaned over and peered cautiously at the little singing box.)

 **El Shaddai, El Shaddai, Erkahmka na Adonai**

 **We will praise and life You high, El Shaddai.**

 **Through Your love and through the ram, You saved the son of Abraham.**

 **And by the power of Your hand, turned the sea into dry land.**

 **To the outcast on her knees, You were the God who really sees,**

 **And by Your might, You set your children free.**

 **El Shaddai, El Shaddai, El-Elyon na Adonai**

 **Age to age You're still the same. By the power of the Name.**

 **El Shaddai, El Shaddai, Erkahmka na Adonai**

 **We will praise and lift You high El Shaddai.**

 **Through the years you made it clear, that the time of Christ was near,**

 **Though the people failed to see, what Messiah aught to be.**

 **Though Your word contained the plan, they just could not understand.**

 **Your most awesome work was done, through the frailty of your son.**

 **El Shaddai, El Shaddai, El-Elyon na Adonai**

 **Age to age You're still the same. By the power of the Name.**

 **El Shaddai, El Shaddai, Erkahmka na Adonai**

 **We will praise and lift You high El Shaddai.**

The song ended and I reached over and shut off the tape player. Everyone was just looking at each other and me like... what now; when suddenly Cornelius's daughter decided she's not done listening, so she stepped up between her parents and turned the player back on. There was silence for a moment before a familiar guitar began to play.

"Hey, this is a good song." I mumbled to myself as a crazy idea suddenly popped into my head.

I know these people don't understand the words, but Romans like theater! Maybe they will understand this? So I began to sing along with Chris Rice as I acted out the words of the song:

 **Lazy summer afternoon, screened in porch and nothing to do.**

 **I just kicked off my tennis shoe.**

 **I'm slouching in a plastic chair, raking my fingers through my hair.**

 **I close my eyes and I leave them there and I yawn and sigh and slowly fade away.**

 **Deep enough to dream in brilliant colors I have never seen.**

 **Deep enough to join a million people for a wedding feast.**

 **Deep enough to reach out and touch the face of the One who made me,**

 **And all the love I feel and all the peace. Do I ever have to wake up?**

(About half way through the song they've started giggling.)

 **Awakened by a familiar sound, a clumsy fly is buzzing around.**

 **He bumps the screen and he tumbles down.**

 **Gathers about his wits and pride and tries again for the 100th time,**

 **Cause freedom calls from the other side,**

 **And I smile and nod and slowly drift away.**

 **Deep enough to dream in brilliant colors I have never seen.**

 **Deep enough to join a million people for a wedding feast.**

 **Deep enough to reach out and touch the face of the One who made me,**

 **And all the love I feel and all the peace, do I ever have to wake up?**

 **Cause peace is pouring over my soul, I see the lambs and the lions playing.**

 **I join in and I drink the music, Holiness is the air I'm breathing.**

 **My faithful Heroes break the bread and answer all of my questions,**

 **Not to mention what the streets are made of.**

 **My heart's held hostage by this love and these brilliant colors I've never seen.**

 **I join a million people for a wedding feast.**

 **And I reach out and touch the face of the One who made me.**

 **Deep enough to dream in brilliant colors I have never seen.**

 **Deep enough to join a million people for a wedding feast.**

 **Deep enough to reach out and touch the face of the one who made me.**

 **And all the love I feel and all the peace, do I ever have to wake up?**

 **Do I ever have to wake up?**

 **Do I really have to wake up now?**

Several songs continued to roll by and before too much longer, it seemed hours had passed. We'd dined on some cheese, grapes, a little bit of bread and wine, while others joined in humming, clapping along and dancing around the table to the music coming out of the little singing box. This goofy 20th century girl along with all these others 'who belong to eternity stranded in time'... are turning out to be rather entertaining.

An ominous roar of... thunder?... brought us to the sudden realization that the day had nearly passed. What was that? We all scurried outside to investigate this clamor that resonated through the cloudless sky. It sounded almost like a sonic boom to me; but deeper and darker, like an angry presence hurled from heaven.

"Something just happened." I mumbled to myself as we all stood around glancing between each other and the sky; before soldiers just shrugged and slowly filed back into the house.

Revelation! What does the book of Revelation say? I commenced chapter mulling; as I thought of entities flung to earth. Wormwood? Satan? The angel with the chain that binds him in the bottomless pit?

About 20 minutes and a smidge of passing deliberation had ensued among a couple soldiers, when a group of unfamiliar faces appeared at the door and began filtering into the dining hall. The singing box sang on and most had lost interest in the rumblings from heaven. I turned around and looked at them, all wearing the same style of dress as I, but just looking a bit too curiously serious at the moment. The familiar piano of the next Michael Card song began, as I made a quick survey of the crowd.

"Ahh! You _**are**_ here!" I cackled as I spotted the only readily familiar face running up to Him.

Oh no, what are you going to do to me now? He had this nearly forlorn expression on His face, as I dragged Him over between Cornelius and Helina all the way on the other side of the room.

 **Seems I've imagined Him all of my life, as the wisest of all of mankind,**

 **But if God's holy wisdom is foolish to men, He must have seemed out of His mind.**

 **For even His family said He was mad, and the priest said a demon's to blame.**

 **But God in the form of this angry young man, could not have seemed perfectly sane.**

 **When we in our foolishness thought we were wise,**

 **He played the fool and He opened our eyes.**

 **When we in our weakness believed we were strong,**

 **He became helpless to show we were wrong.**

 **So we follow God's own fool, for only the foolish can tell.**

 **Believe the unbelievable, come be a fool as well.**

 **So come lose your life for a carpenter's son, for a mad man who died for a dream.**

 **And you'll have the faith his first followers had, and you'll feel the weight of the beam.**

 **So surrender the hunger the sane must know, have the courage to say I believe,**

 **For the power of paradox opens your eyes, and blinds those who say they can see.**

 **When we in our foolishness thought we were wise,**

 **He played the fool and He opened our eyes.**

 **When we in our weakness believed we were strong,**

 **He became helpless to show we were wrong.**

 **So we follow God's own fool, for only the foolish can tell.**

 **Believe the unbelievable, come be a fool as well.**

 **So we follow God's own fool, for only the foolish can tell.**

 **Believe the unbelievable, come be a fool as well.**

When the song ended, some were laughing, others had joined in the minstrel dance, some looking a bit perplexed, while trying to figure out how this little funny contraption could sing and play instruments; and a few bore this expression on their faces like... Romans - Jesh!

Jesus though at least was smiling.

[Do You understand the words to any of this music?] Cornelius asked Him.

[Not really.] Jesus shrugged. [But I know well enough not to be offended.]

Cornelius laughed. [Tis good Lord.] He said as he surveyed his table and picked up a wooden goblet. He poured some wine into it and handed it to Jesus. [Cheers] Cornelius tapped the cup with his own as the two men looked at each other a minute before they downed their gulps of wine.

People were chattering and looking around, seemingly getting ready to leave when I scooped up Jesus's cloak and scurried over to Him.

"Here." I mumbled. "Even though it's soft and warm, smells like You and is less socially awkward to cuddle." I giggled nervously as I handed it back to Him. He took it from my shaking hands, as I contemplated Him a minute. Again, He looked... scared.

"What day is this?" I suddenly popped out with a seemingly unrelated question. He only stared back at me a bit blankly.

[What does she want?] Cornelius flashed Jesus a perplexed look.

I held up my hands as I started to count off days on my fingers "Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday... Sabbaton." They understood the last word as Jesus nodded and pointed to my 3rd finger. "Tuesday." I confirmed as I watched Jesus, who's demeanor started to change to a bit more... despondent. He seemed to know the next question that was coming?

"Friday?" I asked, indicating the finger before I turned and outlined a cross on the table. Jesus only nodded rather meekly. I stood a minute looking at Him, then at Cornelius and then around at all the soldiers on the other side of the table.

Suddenly a horrendous thought struck me. I ran around the table and grabbed a spear off the wall. Coming back to Jesus, I pretended to polk Him in the side and then pressed the spear into Cornelius's hands. "Truly this was the Son of God." ? I pointed to Cornelius.

Cornelius raised an eyebrow at me and then peered over at Jesus, apparently searching for some sort of interpretation. Jesus only managed to mumble a response in a dead flat emotionless tone.

[She's asking about you.]

[Me Lord?]

[Yes, I will die in 3 days.]

[Die Lord? From what?]

[Men under your command will crucify me.]

[What?... Why?]

Jesus stood silent for several long minutes before He sucked in a deep breath.

[There are a lot of reasons.]

Jesus threw His cloak over His shoulder with both hands as He turned and walked away from us. This time though, He was actually shaking.

"And if I should kneel before You, would You lay Your hands on me, or turn me away? Even if I should tremble, deep in my heart; I won't be afraid." I chanted in near song into the dead air.

Jesus stoped, turned around and looked at me. At the first thought that popped into my head; I started part of another song.

 **I looked for comforters but found none. Oh how could You forsake me?**

 **Oh my strength come quickly come, come now oh Lord and save me.**

 **For You would never despise or distain, the suffering of the afflicted.**

 **In the congregation I will proclaim, that from the grave you lifted me.**

 **In the miry depths I sink, lama sabach' thani**

 **They gave me vinegar to drink; lama sabach' thani**

 **lama sabach' thani**

I only stood motionless as the house grew silent. Jesus turned away and walked out the front door. For a split second, I thought I could hear something in the distance. It sounded like a howling dog? People began to murmur and file out into the street. It seemed they were looking for Jesus, who apparently had, at least temporarily... disappeared.

I followed the remaining few souls outside. Shouts in the street let us know He'd been found (whether He really wanted to be or not). Where ever it was Jesus was going; I noted as I spotted Him at the bottom of the hill. It seemed He was intent on walking there.

Cornelius, Horatio and Helina stood around me, while perplexed and irritated Jews seemed to be wondering what I meant by 'why have You forsaken me'; which I'm assuming was the only thing they really understood? Little do they know, I pondered as I absorbed the impact of the knowledge of what was coming in 3 days; that song was **about** Jesus, not directed **at** Jesus.

 _(The Death of a Son - Michael Card)_


	8. Job 33 AD

**Job - 33 AD**

Cornelius was chattering to Helina and Horatio as he seemed to be giving them instructions. It wasn't quite twilight, but the day was burning quickly and Horatio motioned that I should follow them. We began to walk as they lead me down the path back into the city streets.

All the events of the morning of my following Jesus up to their house, ran reverse in my mind as we walked. It seemed oddly comforting to be in the company of other mere mortal sinners, than constantly questioning myself, every thought, intent and idea that popped up every time I looked at Jesus.

Still the photos in my mind remained burned into wet plate of life. Like a nineteenth century camera where the full image of what's being photographed takes hours to imprint; I still felt like I wasn't getting the whole picture.

The picture seemed clearer though, as now not only did I have all the wreckage of my own past, but also a new found awareness of what my future actually cost. This wasn't just about me anymore I realized. Being born of the Spirit was beginning to make me contemplate more and more what this cost Him.

Eli Eli lama sabach' thani.

Jesus had stood in the middle of Cornelius's dining hall with an expression on His face that smacked of pain; but it wasn't the pain I'd expected. He didn't seem hurt by me or what ever deplorable things I'd done to Him personally in the past ... 8 hours maybe? No, He seemed distressed for a very different reason; one I wasn't sure I even understood? ... lama sabach' thani.

This struck me rather strangely as I considered the glaring differences in Jesus's reactions, as opposed to things my brother had said to me: as prior, I couldn't have ever seemed to get this pervert label out of my conscience. Something was different now though. Not that I thought any less of my own sin, or even less confused by my own tangled feelings; but there seemed to be a clarity that wasn't present before?

The radical differences between the two experiences sliced through my conscience like a sword that severed the truth from the lies. On one hand I had my own brother; who'd at that point done everything short of forcible rape (no, that attempt came later) and now on the other hand was Jesus, who though He seemed intensely and intimately familiar to me, in other ways, He was a near stranger.

Jesus had never done a single thing wrong His entire life and how does it happen to be? He didn't at least slap my face for my (what seemed to me to be) ever abundant continuous proliferation of ... inordinate affection? I'd always assumed this was just a furtherance of the same continuum that'd earned me the label of pervert so many years ago; but now I start to wonder? Could these actually be two totally different things? I thought a moment as I felt a certain emotion toward my brother that I'd buried so deeply, I didn't even know it was there. I'm angry! I think? I suddenly realized.

Regardless of what my stupid brother (with his own _problem_ ) said some fifteen years ago; I found myself on a very bizarre quest for the truth. Does **_He_** think I'm dirty? I wondered as I thought about Jesus's reaction to being kissed this morning. I really wanted to know now how **_He_** _honestly_ felt, although I knew I was too humiliated by my own schizophrenic behavior to dare make the inquiry.

My silent consternation was suddenly interrupted by someone who'd snuck up on us. (Well, actually snuck up on Helina.) It was another soldier; one apparently she and Horatio knew. He appeared to be a quite young fellow, who'd spent a moment distracting them from where ever it was they were suppose to be taking me. It soon became apparent that Horatio's role in this interchange was to curtail the subtle flirtatiousness of the other two; when the question suddenly dawned on me, was their behavior actually... normal?

OK, OK, Helina finally seemed to submit to Horatio's instructions as this other soldier politely bowed to her and then respectfully saluted Horatio. He ran off in a different direction, seemingly contented with himself that he'd actually earned a bit more of Horatio's respect.

Respect. The word rung in my ears as we had now continued walking. Honest respect; I suddenly realized. Not the fake courtesy of military protocol rendered even when you know the officer you're saluting is a scum bag. Yeah, I'd run into some of those in the military, but I'd also recognized soldiers of earnest conviction who strove to do what was right because it was right, not because it was convenient. Once in a while, I'd encounter someone who actually had genuine courage. But than again, I'd realized a long time ago, that if self sacrificial love was the common lot of all humanity; congress wouldn't give out metals for it!

So... I sighed as my mind tracked back to Jesus; ' _Eli Eli lama sabach' thani.'_ and the realization that You really did die for my sorry existence.

So maybe, just maybe, I'm so enthralled with You for _that,_ rather than something irrevocably twisted about my own psyche? I wondered maybe, just maybe I'm actually not a pervert after all? The thought suddenly dawned on me, seeing how I've never had this kind of flood of emotions over anyone else. No Jesus, I guess You're the one 'elected' to be special in that regard; or maybe too also undeniably different than anyone else. I still wondered, for though I could now see my brother's warped comment for what it was; I still felt like there was something desperately wrong with me. Who really had ' _the problem'_ though, was now, maybe just a little clearer in my mind.

I trailed along behind Horatio and Helina; who seemed busy engaging in mundane chatter, all the while wondering where I was going to end up for tonight? Where had Jesus and everyone else gone? I questioned; and would I soon be joining them?

I tried to recollect what would be happening next, from what I now **_couldn't_ **seem to recall from the gospels. _(Stupid Gulf War brain!)_ I knew washing the disciples feet, Passover and Gethsemane were coming up and wondered if I was actually going to be a witness to history? How very interesting that would be. I thought to myself, as although I'd done a lot of Bible study in the past 10 or so years; how close was my interpretation and/or imagination really to reality? That's of course, if _this_ is actually reality? I asked myself once again.

Oh yes, than hurl onto this fire of 'my cup runneth over'... mixed up feelings I have / had... about my own perceptions _(or is it perseverations?)_ of Jesus and I often wondered if I ever encountered the real McCoy, how He would react to me? _'Good God Jim she's dead! I'm a doctor not Jesus Christ!' (Yes, please I need resurrecting!)..._

I guess I'll never be sure this side of eternity? The internal fight raged on, as it seemed Jesus was way to kind and tolerant of me. You can't be real. I tried to convince myself as the events of the day played on in my head. You just can't!

I flip flopped back and forth over what reality is and what it's not, when I was suddenly arrested by certain revelation of Jesus's personhood, _or at least the fractured lapses of time I spent with Him today._

Although there were instances where He was obviously perplexed, scared, annoyed or happy; He was still always... still. Even when His attention turned directly upon me and I'd feel my knees quiver, I never felt threatened. _Yes often overwhelmed by the magnitude of the reality of the well deserved, justified, eternal wrath of Almighty God;_ but... never threatened.

The engine of my own thoughts began to seize as I realized I'd plumb there run out thoughts to think. _It's hard to be a fallen creature and accurately behaviorally profile God._ I chuckled to myself, although the dichotomy of _glorious terror_ that has so profoundly impacted my own _beautiful mess_ , was none the less 'take my breath away' indisputable to me.

But this was true from the point of my very first spiritual awakenings back at the end of high school, through the war, seemingly endless hours spent in therapists offices, to wanting to jump off a bridge. God has been overwhelming, thoughts of death and hell terrifying, yet steady, unshakable and... _CARING!_

God has protected me through so much I could never see before and even now, so much I don't even know. Even in my own moments of stupidity, He's preserved my life. I recognized. Which is profoundly awe striking, seeing how I can recollect plenty of examples of other's lives where He didn't do that.

Memories of the day once again filled my mind as we had now closed in upon the same dead tree I'd followed Jesus passed this morning; when I noticed something. I bent down and picked up a withered piece of mummified fruit. This had been a fig tree! The revelation suddenly hit me. The tree Jesus cursed because He was hungry and it had no fruit. 'The time of figs was not.' _(Because the time of figs had passed.)_

I looked down on the ground, suddenly preoccupied with walking around the base of this tree. I guess He was right, there's no fruit here. I paused a moment, holding the body of this single fig in my hand. '...in the time of their visitation they shall be cast down. I shall surely consume them said the Lord; there shall be no grapes on the vine, no figs on the fig tree and the leaf shall fade and the things I've given them shall pass away from them.'

"Kat-reen!" A voice called me.

I turned and looked up. Horatio was motioning to me. 'And given unto a nation who's tongue they do not understand.' I thought to myself as I looked at him standing there in his uniform while several Pharisees, Scribes, doctors of the law - _or who ever they were,_ passed by in the streets. 'The harvest is passed, the summer is ended and we are not saved.' I inadvertently stuffed the fig in my pocket and followed on.

We kept walking until Horatio went traipsing off into an open ended partially roofed building that I'd noticed earlier against the base of the wall, but never knew what it was. As we passed, I peered into the alcove and got my first glimpse of ancient public sanitation. This was a communal toilet house, where multiple holes on benches lined opposing walls. Running down the center, was a trough filled with wash water. At the far end of this... restroom, several men were collecting pails of what I first assumed to be water from another large basin, until I saw Horatio run up the steps and squat to urinate into this... collection bin.

Oh yeah, I suddenly remembered as recollections from history documentaries I'd watched explained that urine was used for centuries in the tanning process and textiles to both bleach and dye clothing. This fact made me think twice about our modern depictions of Jesus in bleach white robes. _Yeah... especially when you know how they bleached clothing in the ancient world! Anybody gotta pee?_

Needless to say, at least of what I've seen thus far, Jesus was walking around in natural linen flax or wool that was the original color of the plants and animals it had come from. _Better than being stuck in a bottle of urine and called art!_

Now Cornelius and his household were apparently wealthy enough to have a private toilet room right in their home. I realized this when I needed to use it, although I was a bit perplexed by the fact that his toilet room was a '6 seater'? Yet, as I watched men, women and children enter and exit this public restroom, it became abundantly clear to me that privacy was not something people in this century seemed to care too much about.

Yes, as much as I hated to admit it; finding myself stuck here, I'm forced to confront the fact that this was a reality to contend with for the Son of God just as for anyone else. _Suddenly there were images of Jesus I didn't want in my head._

I'd spent most of my hours with Romans who have sponges on sticks sitting in saltwater that they use for cleaning themselves; but I have no idea if ancient Jews out in the countryside are like modern Saudi Arabians with a bucket of water and... your left hand. _Leviticus does say to clean... 'stuff' off your body with water. Err...more images of Jesus I didn't want in my head._

Yet I guess that's just it - unavoidable. Even in my sterile century, how often have I had to contend with poop, puke, urine and other bodily fluids from man and beast a like?

Weird, I sighed as suddenly the humanness of the Divine seemed so well... human.

Horatio came running back to us, followed by another soldier he'd ... _met in the restroom._ I'd seen them squatting together. I shuttered a moment. This is something that's going to take me some time getting used to.

This other soldier though obviously had been wounded, for I could see a deep yet healed up gash that ran down the side of his head. Another thing I'd learned from history documentaries; soldiers make good candidates for the advancement of experimental surgeries, since they are young, usually relatively healthy and fresh wounds are... a different circumstance to deal with than established disease. That of course is if the doctors are aware enough to know how to curb / prevent infection.

This soldier, although he'd survived the wound had some obvious long term affects, as part of his face was paralyzed and he talked with a speech impediment. He appeared to be a battle buddy of Horatio's, as Horatio affectionally put an arm around him and cheerfully slapped his face. What a miracle. I thought to myself as Horatio grabbed his friend in a bear hug and sent him on his way with a hearty slap on the back before we continued on.

Had all these people too, lived instances in their lives where they were profoundly aware of God working out His plan in this world? I thought about this soldier and then Cornelius and Horatio, all 'ancient' combat vets who for all practical purposes seemed a lot like me; as I watched he and Helina ambling along the road before us.

I'd once encountered a Bible verse about how God strikes down entire nations for the sake of redeeming His people and I thought about Iraq and Saudi Arabia. That verse actually scared me, because why would I be worth more than anyone else to strike down in the name of Redemption? Yet, I'd also come to realize from my nearly morbid fascination with war; that this is one method God often uses to get the attention of those He intends to redeem. He says His word will not return unto Him void and in His providence, there was a valid reason North American and European armies left 500,000 Bibles in Saudi Arabia during Desert Storm.

Yet if God spared not His own Son and history tells us He didn't spare Rome; why would He spare Iraq, Saudi Arabia or America for that matter?

 ** _A throne of ashes, a crown of pain, the sovereign of sorrows, a mournful reign._**

 ** _May the day of my birth be remembered no more, May darkness and shadow come claim it once more._**

 ** _Why did I not perish on that dreadful day, To sleep now where kings and counselors lay?_**

 ** _What I dreaded most, has now come upon me. Why is light given those in misery?_**

 ** _I loath my own life so my tears fall like rain, As I find that there is no peace in my pain._**

 ** _Lord send the Comforter now to my door, So that this terror will frighten no more._**

 ** _A counselor between us to come hear my oath, Someone who could lay a hand on us both._**

 ** _These friends of mine, are no comfort to me, So deafly they listen, so blindly they see._**

 ** _Their words and their doctrines they all sound so true, The problem is Lord, they're all wrong about You!_**

 ** _I know my Advocate waits upon high, My witness in heaven sees the tears that I cry._**

 ** _A true intercessor who will condescend, To plead with God as a man pleads for his friend._**

 ** _If I've been untrue, if I've robbed the poor, If I'm without guilt, what am I suffering for?_**

 ** _God would not crush me for some secret sin. And though He's slain me, still I'll trust in Him._**

 ** _I know now that my Redeemer's alive. He'll stand on the earth on the day He arrives._**

 ** _And though my body by than is no more, Yet in my flesh I know I'll see the Lord._**

 ** _I'll see the Lord!_**

 ** _Who is it that darkens My counsel, Who speaks empty words without knowledge?_**

 ** _Raise yourself up like a man, And answer me now if you can?_**

 ** _Can you put on glory and splendor? What's the way to the home of the light?_**

 ** _Does your voice sound like the thunder? Are you afraid?_**

 ** _Where were you when earth's foundations were laid?_**

 ** _Who gave the heart it's wisdom? The mind it's desire to know?_**

 ** _Can you bind the stars, raise your voice to the clouds? Did you make the eagle proud?_**

 ** _Do the ox spend the night by your manger? Did you let the wild donkeys go free?_**

 ** _Can you take leviathan home as a pet, If you merely touched him, you'd never forget._**

 ** _So who is it that darkens My counsel? Who speaks empty words without knowledge?_**

 ** _Raise yourself up like a man, and answer me now if you can?_**

 ** _I am unworthy, how can I reply? There's nothing that You can not do._**

 ** _You are the storm that calmed my soul. I place my hand over my mouth._**

 ** _I place my hand over my mouth._**

 _(Job Suit - Michael Card)_


	9. The Ship's Crew

**The Ship's Crew**

I tripped along behind Horatio and Helina until we came to a crossroad just outside the gate we'd exited. There we paused in the shadow of the city's towering wall, as several people got up from a wooden bench poised by the side of the road. Helina sat down and I plopped next to her; Horatio 'stood guard'.

Interesting! I noted those who'd just gotten up, glared at me as they scuttled over to stand near another group of people who were also just... _standing around_? It didn't take the remainder of my Freshman year in college, for the rocket scientist in me to realize this was the first century version of a bus stop; _as I observed several carts and a chariot stop to both pick up and drop off passengers._

We hadn't been 'trading' at ' _wall_ street' long when a cart with a couple of soldiers perched atop rolled up. I figured they recognized Horatio and were offering him a ride back into the city. He stopped to converse a bit; of which they soon rolled off again. This was a reoccurring theme; (going in both directions) before I realized it wasn't Horatio they recognized as much as his uniform rank. These carts were laden with soldiers and they'd salute him before they drove off again. I guess it was customary to stop and offer military men of higher status a ride, if you just happened to see them waiting at a 'bus stop'.

I concluded this wooden bench we'd 'stolen' was of similar 'privilege', for I noticed an abundance of glares from passerby's. Also, no one came to sit with us, despite there being plenty of room. Obviously, rank and class have their perks and who was I to be filling this space when we were evidently from two very different social groups; a rather wealthy Roman soldier family and me, dressed as a Jew. I tried to contain myself, as I thought about turning around and asking Helina for some bacon.

I sat engaged with a group of children who'd been playing a game that looked to be some version of hop scotch, as in pairs or threes; they'd throw pebbles and jump through spaces drawn in the dust on the ground. It seemed the object of the contest was who could navigate their maze the fastest. I clapped for a little girl who grinned proudly of her newly revealed superpower to out-skip an older boy (probably her brother) when I was tapped on the shoulder. I turned around.

"Oh, Jesus. It's You. Err... Hi!" I stared at Him rather dumb struck, wondering where He'd come from and how I'd missed His arrival. 'Behold He comes as a thief in the ... late afternoon.' I chuckled in pleased recognition. Poor thing, You look awfully tired. I smiled thoughtfully.

"Sh' lam lek." He replied as I still sat a moment before His words registered.

"Salam alaikum to You too." I started to giggle.

"Hal tata'hadath ale'arabia?" Helina suddenly turned; surprised that apparently I said something she understood.

"La." I laughed. She flashed me a puzzled expression.

[It's a long story.] Jesus replied to Helina.

"Oh...?" Was her response.

"Hey, I understood that!" I laughed as I pointed to her. Both she and Jesus giggled a bit.

Come. He motioned as He pointed to a cart behind Him.

"Thank you." I said as I turned to Helina and held my arms out.

"Ealaa alrahb." She lit up, as she returned my hug. Universal chick language. I snickered to myself as I got up and headed to where Jesus had indicated.

"Shukrann." I bowed to Horatio; making an assumption that if Helina understood Arabic, so did he.

"Ealaa alrahb." He nodded with a smile as I popped him an American military salute followed by a Roman one. He returned the gestures.

"Udkhul 'alearaba." Jesus raised His voice in a quasi amused tone as He pointed to the cart.

"Elohim Akbar!" I replied with the first thing that came to mind.

"Ati-...Elohim warasula " Jesus retorted.

"Oh, You're funny!" I smirked as He pointed behind me. "Obey God and His messenger. Yeshua ha Mashiach; now get in the cart" I giggled as He shooed me along with a couple of little, yet a bit less than subtle nudges. "OK, OK. Don't get pushy... Iesus Christus!" I fluttered in a bit of rebellious humor as I grinned at Him and scurried off.

Suddenly, I realized I was the 'main course' of all these 'eagle eyes' fixed upon me. "What?" I haplessly shrugged with a nervous snicker as I surveyed the human landscape and then fixed my attention upon Jesus. He pointed at the cart with the indication that I should get in; NOW. "OK." I squeaked suddenly deciding it would be prudent to just do what He says before I either start a riot, make God really annoyed; or both!

So I jumped up as He let out a sigh, shuffled passed us and fell into the cart behind mine. He slumped nearly prone into a pile of straw and pulled His Tallit up over His head; while several perturbed and confused disciples glanced at Him, me, and then at each other. Several began to speak all at once when Jesus yelled something and one waved his hands at the rest in a gesture of: 'Cut it guys; just leave Him alone'.

Wow, did He just tell them to shut up? I marveled as I glanced around the few faces in my cart; apparently bearing an expression of shock. There was one woman and two other men, besides the driver.

[The Lord is tired and they do that to him all the time.] The woman patted my arm as she spoke. The driver began to chuckle as he and the fellows across from me shot subdued comments at each other.

[Yes, we rabble rousing, hapless and disobedient... disciples.]

[Don't pester the Lord when he's cranky.]

[You know we're the ones who make him cranky; don't ya?]

[All the time.]

[Stop making him cranky.]

[Hey, it wasn't me this time.]

[Not like you haven't said your fair share of stupid things to him.]

[Like Master, what do we do with all this extra bread?]

[Eat it! I thought for sure that's he was going to say to you.]

[Then that time you were chasing me around with a bucket of water.]

[You really deserved that.]

[Yeah, except I wasn't the one you got!]

[Well... he didn't yell at me;... even if he was pretty soggy.]

[I would have yelled at you!]

[You would have kicked me into next week.]

'Holy holy is the Lord whom one in three we know...' A Craig Smith song began to play in my head; 'by all Thy heavenly host adored, by all Thy... obnoxious ... church below.'

We bumped and bounced along the road passed the city as I sat considering this garden we'd just come upon and my friends the rocks who were still there, as it seemed; waiting? Ironic how I'd been hiding in the 'cleft of the rock' when I was rescued by the 'chief cornerstone'. Yes, 'God is able, of these stones to raise up children unto Abraham'; even if admittedly so, some of us 'children' still have a bit of gravel between our ears!

"Jon". The driver called as he briefly turned, jutting his finger at something. The young man responded by retrieving an object from the floor and handing it to the driver. John? So that's who you are. I took mental notes as I started to wonder who the other three were. Evidently our chauffeur was another disciple and maybe this woman was Martha's sister? Both she and John attempted to strike up a conversation with me, but of course I couldn't understand a flipping thing they said. Finally, they just looked at each other and shrugged.

The discussion meandered along without me, while I became occupied with watching the scenery fade. As I listened, I figured out we were headed to Bethany and the driver's name was Philip. I tried to imagine what was going to happen next, if it wasn't something I'd already read about centuries later. I guess I _am_ going to be a witness to history. I let out an indecisive sigh, as although I knew where we were on the calendar, I found I was beginning to loath what was coming. What was I about to see? I pondered as the thought of a crucifixion suddenly flashed through my mind. The very idea scared me and I laid down in the cart, in an attempt to corral it back into the recesses of my subconscious.

About 10 minutes had ticked by when I sat up to us pulling through a circular path in front of someone's house. Several people ran out to assist as Philip and John jumped down to greet them. Two men and three women hurried over, helping John pull the gate down and scooping supplies out of the cart. This other woman passenger (whose name I still didn't know) was up and out before I even turned around. They yanked the straw bundles, as well as two boxes (one of which I just realized Philip had been sitting on) off the 'tailgate'; while I crawled to the end.

The cart behind us was engaged in the same 'docking procedures'; as I noticed Jesus was out and just sitting in the yard, with a few folks standing by delivering food and water to His aid. I crept over to see 'what were the goings on'?

Jesus held His arms up, as two fellows pulled Him to His feet. He shook the one and patted his face in a gesture of thanks, as He wrapped one arm around the other's shoulder and slapped him on the back. He'd turned to the rest of us folks, noting my standing there amongst the gathering.

[Who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame and is set down at right hand of the throne of God.] Jesus spoke as He walked up to me; let out a chuckle and in jest, pulled the loose end of my scarf down over my face.

"HEY!" I playfully protested, as I flustered at Him and pulled my scarf back.

[Three days and three nights left Father and I can barely stand now.] He muttered as He staggered a few steps across the yard while someone offered their aid. Jesus stood a minute to get His bearings, before He'd determined... _I_ _am_ _... going into that house._

My fellow female traveling companion scurried over and eagerly whisked me inside. She explained all the lovely details of tonight's feast as we passed several rooms where people were moving furniture and cooking food. I paused at one doorway, where several disciples stood in a semicircle staring down at the floor, whispering in hushed deliberation.

On a cushion in the corner before us all, lay Jesus.

[Is he OK?]

[I think he's asleep?]

[Should we wake him?]

[I wouldn't!]

One squatted down for a closer look and then stood back up.

[He's out cold!]

[Unconscious?]

[Drooling unconscious.]

 _There was a moment of silence._

[We should make sure he's OK.]

[If he's breathing, he's OK.]

Another leaned over for a second opinion.

[Yeah.] He confirmed as he stood up [He's OK.]

The other fellow smirked as he gestured an escort to the remainder toward the door.

They filed passed us as I turned to the woman who'd brought me into the house. She only shrugged as the last disciple exited the room and quietly closed the door.

From there, she took me to the kitchen, in which she pointed to a small hut that sat several yards from the back door. I wasn't exactly sure what it was, but after witnessing the very public toilet house in Jerusalem, I found myself praying it was a 'proper' out house; _and one that wasn't a 6 seater_.

She escorted me back inside, while pausing a minute to retrieve a piece of fruit. I followed her as we passed through a narrow hallway into one of the side rooms, where she poured some water into a clay basin. She chattered on, telling me things; _(of which I had no idea what)_ while she busied herself with something on the other side of the room. I washed my hands.

I splashed some cold water on my face when she came and tapped me on the arm to show me she'd made up a sleeping mat for me to rest on. She must have figured I was tired after having layed down in the cart and maybe she was right? I thought to myself as recollections of Jesus piled in a heap on the floor 'rested' upon my mind. He looked like a load of laundry waiting for the washing machine; pick it up and the arms and legs dangle lifelessly. Well, I suppose we are a 'tiresome' bunch. I concluded as I let out a bit of a chuckle, followed by a sigh; dried my hands and face and walked across the room to my bed.

She paused on her way out of the room and stood next to the basin wearing a vaguely confused expression. We stared at each other a minute or two before she pointed to the floor and I realized what was wrong. Oh yeah, I laughed with a hint of embarrassment. I forgot to wash my feet. She smiled at my little social misdemeanor, as I think she realized I wasn't from the neighborhood. Oh how she had absolutely no idea. I thought to myself as I finished cleaning up.

"Thank you." I said in a hardly audible whisper. She only smiled as she picked up the basin and left the room. The curtain swished behind her and I let out a sigh of relief. "It's so freaking hot here, I can hardly breathe!" I sputtered to myself as I striped to down to my first century underwear and collapsed on the mat.


	10. Walking into The BOOK

**Walking... into the BOOK**

My trek through the hallway was... only a tad unnerving, until I encountered the other women and realized my 'fashion sense' wasn't too far outside the box. Some wore very pretty scarves and colorful outfits as well as some of the men being '1st Century Jerusalem runway'. I realized as I observed more closely. My bad - for not noticing earlier in the blinding sun of this desert climate, but the first century was far more colorful and detailed than I had ever thought.. I became engrossed in studying the very fine stripes on a headpiece which a man standing a few feet away had hanging over his shoulder. It fascinated me with all the varieties of blues it held.

What a wonderful world. Louis Armstrong's gravely voice proclaimed in my mind's ear. I chuckled to myself as someone handed me a small plate of food. "Marcus" he mentioned a name I recognized, as he continued chatting while pointing out another man who was carving up the same delicacy on the plate being placed in my hands. It looked like fish of some sort dressed in herb seasoning. This fellow said a few words, though I could tell he figured out pretty quickly that I 'no comprendo' Aramaic. He continued to be polite though and when someone called "Math'ew" he smiled and excused himself.

I stepped aside as two other men hurried through, when John approached with another plate for my food critic's review. He spoke some enthusiastic words while pointing to cuisine that to me, looked like chicken curry. "Thank you." I smiled at his thoughtfulness as I took the plate and sampled the chicken. He was right, it was good, though didn't taste familiar.

We 'mingled' a few minutes until John too had some place else to go and I was left to my own devices; watching people as they moved about the room gathering things to eat. I guess I missed the prayer? I thought to myself as I continued to observe.

I tried to figure who was who by the personalities I'd read of in the Bible. I was pretty sure I had accurately pegged Simon Peter and maybe even Lazarus. _Lazarus was the only one who looked well rested; positive consequence of coming back from the dead; I suppose!_ I guessed who Luke was and the virgin Mary; _now a little old lady and of course no longer a virgin_ as she sat with one of her other sons _probably James_.

Judas was also an obvious spot, standing next to the front door with a pouch tucked under his arms. He finally stepped inside and hid this pouch in his belt; all the while scanning the crowd for... who knows what? _The only thing I could think of was: Satan seeking whom he could devour._

The master of this house was a thin and frail looking man, whose entire family seemed almost too young for him. Even so, it was obvious to the casual observer that he loved them, because he was always giving someone a hug or a kiss. He spent many 'ah minute with his wife (and a few other women) in the kitchen tasting all the food, or just smelling the bread. He acted like he'd been off somewhere on a long journey and was finally home. I thought this was odd, until I started to realize; maybe I did know his identity? Did this man once have leprosy? I questioned as I looked around for other clues of what might be about to happen next?

I finished my chicken and fish, deciding maybe it would be nice of me to at least return the plates to the kitchen. I grinned as I started toward the back of the house. A funny thought popped into my head as I approached the dark hall where the satchel lay. I wonder if my digital camera still works? (Not that it's in there... but); what a Kodak moment this would make! I started to laugh as I walked into the kitchen.

Upon hearing my entrance, two of the three ladies who were already washing dishes turned around. They accepted the plate with some friendly words and a few smiles as they went back to their work. This gives me something to do; I thought for a moment. It's not my normal modus operandi; I usually like to socialize at parties, but what good is socializing if I can't understand... _a bloody thing?_ I sort of chuckled. At least I could make myself useful. So, that's what I did; for about the next hour or so, I picked up plates and cups and... _made_ myself useful, bringing in empty food containers.

I watched and listened for more clues, as I wandered about on my quest for dirty dishes. A few people gave me a strange look now and then; but for the most part, no one seemed to notice me much at all. I walked into the kitchen with just a few cups and utensils when I saw two people carrying buckets of water to the fire that sat just out the back door; one of which was this dinner party's Guest of honor. The other was John and I peered out the door a minute or so, as it looked they had just come from the direction of the outhouse. The well was adjacent on the other side of the property and since obviously, they'd drawn water; they seemed to be just coming back inside.

I watched with a certain amazement while Jesus Himself poured the water into a large cauldron that sat over a fire, while John handed Him the other bucket. They'd scooped two smaller pails of hot water out of a second caldron which was attended by two teenage boys. They exchanged a few words with these lads before coming back into the kitchen and pouring these pails into wash basins.

One of the women jokingly scolded John for spilling some water and making a mess on the floor. John looked at her and grinned. She swatted him with her dish towel. The women then thanked Jesus as He handed these pails back to John; who was now playfully flinging them out the back door at the boys.

A bit of ruckus laughter ensued as something came flying back through the door at John. It slid across the floor leaving a splatter of a muddy trail. Jesus snatched it up and quickly winged it back; leaving a second muddy trail as it hit the door frame and ricocheted back out side. The boys began to roar.

One of the women turned around and started flustering at John and the lads for throwing these things around and messing her kitchen. John protested as he pointed at Jesus. The woman put her hands on her hips and gave John 'the look'.

At this point, the boys outside were just about rolling around on the ground; while this woman was shaking her finger at John gesturing in Jesus direction, as it was apparent she didn't believe John as to who the guilty party **_really_** was. One of the boys managed to compose himself enough to stick his head in the door and he too pointed at Jesus. The woman paused in a bit of shock, as she finally turned to Jesus and in as much of a calm tone as she could manage to muster asked something (probably along the lines of); Lord, did you do that?

Without hesitation, Jesus nodded in the affirmative as this poor woman just threw her hands in the air and walked away. I was still giggling when Jesus turned around. He glanced at me with a bit of a smirk as He took the dishes I was holding and dumped them in the basin. You _**do**_ have a rather mischievous side don't You? I marveled as He walked past me exiting the kitchen.

I helped with the dishes for the next 10 or so minutes as John and the boys dutifully cleaned up the mud. I think this one woman was the mother of at least one of these boys; as she certainly scolded them like she was their mom.

The giggling of a small child caught my attention as I left on my next quest for more things to wash. The once dark hall was now lit by two lanterns, which outlined the three people standing in the shadow of their light. There stood the man of the house, his child and his God. How ordinary the scene looked. I thought to myself as I just stayed frozen in my spot.

I watched while Jesus gave the little girl a kiss, set her down on the floor and she scurried off into the bedroom. Her earthly father soon followed, as the intercessor to her heavenly One came walking toward me. He paused in the hallway a moment and smiled. Yes He nodded as He turned and pointed toward the door which the lantern was now shining out from. "Si'mon" He said while He patted my shoulder and stepped around me.

Interesting, I thought a moment as the silly exchange in the kitchen hadn't happened but 15 minutes earlier; yet something was markedly different. I noticed as I watched Jesus walk back into the gathering. He stopped at one of the tables and retrieved a plate. "Eli, Eli lama sabach' thani." I almost whispered a'loud, when He turned and looked at me. Yes, He seemed to sigh one last time and slowly walked away.

I stood in the hall for several more long minutes, when the woman who had kindly dressed me so beautifully approached with a small white square jar in her hand.

"I think I know who you are too... now." I said as I reached out and grabbed her arm. "Magdalene?" I asked.

She looked at me a minute, closing her fingers around her costly treasure. "Mir'iam" She answered. "Mag'dela" She continued as she motioned me to follow her.

She brought me back to the room I'd slept in. She'd set her jar on the table as she went into her trunk and pulled out a ring. This ring was someone's personal double signet and had something that looked like a military fortress with some sort of latin inscription on one side and a picture of Augustus Caesar on the other. Was Mary the widow of a Roman official maybe? I wondered. She apparently was quite wealthy.

"Mag'dela" She said as she pointed to the fortress on the ring.

"Miriam the Fortress". I mumbled to myself as she nodded with a laugh and began to talk.

[He named me the fortress. Strong in support and strong in faith toward God.] She smiled proudly. [After of course he healed me of my terrible pains. I could barely walk and my poor youngest daughter was still pretty small.] She continued. [It was hard and no doctor could cure my arthritis. I didn't like what I was becoming; old, bitter and dependent, searching for the next best, better cure. My husband's physician called it hypochondria.] She paused another minute. [Then our servant told my daughter about the Rabbi who can heal people. Come see mom; she dragged me. Me and all my charms and potions.] She started to laugh. [After the demons left and I was finally pain free. I could see who he really was. Jenti, our servant said: He is your Messiah. And yes, he was right. It seemed so simple!] She paused another moment. [Then Abram died; I became a widow and knew for sure what I was to do with our estate.]

She sat and looked at me for a good long time. [The teacher speaks of death.] She continued as she retrieved her box from across the table. [He told me you understand much about him and this talk of death.] She let out a sigh. [So I went to my friend Cecilia, who's husband is a merchant in fine silks and perfume and bought this.] She said as she took my hand and placed the little white square jar into it.

I quietly nodded for though I had _no_ idea what she said; I was pretty sure I knew what should happen next. I was just shocked that I was assigned to be part of this. OK, I let out a sigh as I looked at this alabaster jar and thought about... Sunday morning. I can do this. I told myself.

It felt strange as I deliberately stepped out of this back room, through the gathering and straight into the Scripture. Each individual word of the verses went through my mind as I cracked open this alabaster container and _'the aroma of its contents filled the house'._ Compelled by what could have only been the Spirit of God _'came to Him a woman having an alabaster box of very precious ointment and poured it on His head as he sat to eat!'_

Jesus glanced up at me as I approached. His expression faded from the friendly appreciation of brotherly fellowship, to the growing awareness of impending terror. The color drained from His face as He took a deep breath and bowed His head. Curious disciples glaring at me began to murmur, as Jesus gazed cryptically at the table. Off somewhere in the recesses of eternity, He seemed caught in thoughts of time. I started to wonder if His life was flashing before His eyes?

He sat up again while I strode intently around the table. We watched each other's every move as I inched up behind Him. He raised His cup of wine, seeming to gesture: This is the cup of the New Covenant and the blood shed for many for the remission of sin. Interesting? I thought to myself as He never put it down. Here is where it will end. He intently determined, as He peered behind one last time, before He leaned over in an act of submission to the will of the Father. I'm ready to die. He seemed to be saying.

As I dumped the contents of this alabaster jar, the previous expression on Jesus's face stuck in my mind; in similitude to the one wounded EPW I'd stumbled upon back during the war. He was laying by the side of the road peering up at me with the question written all over his face: 'Are you going to kill me now?' as he meekly raised his hands in the gesture of surrender illustrated upon the little paper leaflet he clenched in shaking fist. No, I'm not going to kill you. I remember sighing.

 _But how can_ _ **I**_ _kill God?_ I suddenly flashed forward to the past. _Jesus what does it feel like to endure an eternity under wrath?_ The single question blared through my empty skull as Jesus sat in... _dead stillness_.

It almost looked as if He'd stopped breathing; in one solemn revelation of 'the hour has now commenced'. I leaned over a minute and looked at Him. _The trepidation is overwhelming._ His panicked expression clearly declared as He pivoted ever so slightly; peeping out of His almost ... obscene determination. Can one actually... _lust after obedience to the will of the Almighty?_ The question stopped **_me_** dead, as He'd bowed nearly prostrate; clenching one hand over the other to steady His trembling.

I watched this oil as it ran through His hair down the sides of His face and back of His neck. It was a rather visceral encounter as I instinctively placed my other hand on His wet head, while slowly setting the container next to HIs elbow. It smelled peaty; like the soil on an unusually warm day in the early spring, just before the plants begin to break forth.

His once deeply parched hair was now gritty black in this musky smelling dusty chorus of sand, grit, sweat and... sebum, now mixed with spikenard and olive oil. I found my fingers now clinchingly tangled into this mess.

 ** _But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed._**

 ** _With each new day that comes to pass; will the Great Spirit free us all at last. He said we were the chosen ones!_**

My mind suddenly tracked down a previously uncharted path, as Isaiah 53 intersected with a line from a Brian Adam's song. I recognized Jesus's hair was kind of course and a bit stiff, not like Africans though; but more like a Native American western plains tribesman... with curly hair?

Yes, a people who disappeared from history; just like ... you. I leaned over as I looked at the side of His face. You almost resemble a medium toned olive colored Pigmy Russian bear, with Native American hair and nearly European curls. He turned toward me. ...and brown eyes.

Are You what Adam looked like; or did he look like You? Another question tracked through the millennia. A small but solid composite of all of humanity? I wondered as Jesus suddenly stood up and my hand dropped down His arm.

I stood quietly watching history unfold as if it were in slow motion. Angry and hostile disciples rose to the occasion, only to be rebuked by the Lord who they had no clue would be dead and buried within the next 72 hours. 'Where soever this gospel shall be preached...' I could hear the English words echoing back to me through the ages. Preached to a nation that you don't even have any idea exists. It's a memorial to all of us whose dead carcasses lay in the streets of our ruined Palestine(s), (and ruined Americas) awaiting the resurrection.

I slowly walked away as things settled down, back into a time and place that was so surreal to me. All of this that's about to happen, that has happened already? I stood there in my own disbelief next to who I now knew to be Mary Magdalene.

If you had any idea what people in my century think you are. I chuckled cynically. Mary the fortress. You might be surprised at the proliferation of warped interpretations of that? I glanced over at her and cracked a smile. Yet the Bible says He cast 7 demons out of you. I have no idea what you told me back there, but you seem to be pretty with it; and obviously you are absolutely loaded. So, I wonder what those demons were? I pondered, as I like the rest of them stand here and wait for my miracle. Little did I realize that even with the retrospect of history, I wouldn't have any real understanding until sometime early Sunday morning!


	11. Good Night Kisses

**Good Night Kisses**

Time marched on and so did the people as they began to exit the house in their groups of twos or threes etc.. - signaling that this dinner party was more or less officially over. In the midst of all this came Martha out of the kitchen, arms filled with empty trays, bowls and small water pots; in which she handed most off to her sister Mary and her brother Lazarus, as well as several older children who were standing there too.

She was determined and undaunted by having to squeeze around and step over disciples who were either too lazy _or stubborn_ to get out of the way. Jesus met her about midpoint through the crowd, in which they exchanged a few words while (much to my surprise) she wrapped her free arm around His neck and kissed Him. After this, she tucked her water pot back under her elbow and continued on her way as if nothing of worthy consideration had transpired. Just a simple act of love and gratitude for the assistance He'd given her earlier.

"Huh?" I mumbled in amazement as she rallied a few of the trays back from Lazarus, since he was the next in line to say good night. After the two men hugged and kissed each other, the youngest boy ran over for a departing cuddle. He was soon followed by the older kids.

I wonder if these are Martha's children? I pondered a minute, as I watched the girl jumping around her aunt after coming back from Jesus. The expression on Mary's face caught my attention, when I noticed she was looking at Martha with almost a scowl. What's that all about? I questioned, scratching my head; as I always thought it was Martha who had the problem with Mary?

Evidently there is more to the dynamics of this family than meets the eye. I realized as Lazarus walked past his sisters to take the young'ens outside, while Jesus stood watching Mary's reaction to all of this. His curious expression caught her attention, but only for a moment before she abruptly turned away and followed her brother out the door. Obviously she wasn't real happy with Jesus either. I chuckled as Martha let out a sigh of frustration. Jesus consoled her with a pat on the shoulder and a few last words before she too exited into the night.

Well, wasn't that...thought provoking? I mumbled as I turn around to find myself a seat. Could it be I wasn't the only one in history whose desire for Jesus went a little beyond redemption? I laughed with an ironic sort of scorn as I simply leaned against a wall, seeing how all the seats were taken at the moment.

The only difference between me and Mary though, was that I knew better. At least I had history that told me what was going to happen. Poor Mary only had her loneliness and a fading hope for something that was never to come to fruition. She looked sort of jealous of Martha? I let out a chuckle as I considered that Martha must have been at least 15 years Jesus's senior. Maybe those really weren't her kids, maybe they were her _grandkids?_ I started to giggle as I realized that I was only basing my conjecture on two minutes of interaction that probably was out of context in the first place.

Either way, I sighed with one last laugh, as I thought of all the conversations this evening and how it was curiously amusing to me that the 'kitchen help' (Martha) was the only woman I'd seen have such a personal interaction with prominent Guest of the banquet. Although the more I thought about it now, I could recall many people both male and female poking, patting, sleeves pulling and even hugging Him. All this physical contact seemed almost inappropriate to my puritanical, yet erotically obsessed American mindset.

Regardless, this little exchange left me in somewhat of a quandary; for even though it didn't seem that out of context for Middle Eastern culture, it was still bothersome. Yes, I've seen many men and women of these desert lands show public displays of affection for others, they just never crossed the gender barrier.

Funny how it is, I wondered as I thought back on all the Bible passages where it recorded women touching Jesus. What really are the social norms and morays of this civilization - the citizens of the kingdom? I began to seriously ponder as I questioned why these things were recorded in the first place? Was it because hugging the beloved Master was so unusual, or rather for the sake of societies like mine? I let out a cynical giggle as I found it pretty ironic that such a 'repressed' community had one over on the era of supposedly 'sexual revolution' I lived in.

Oddly enough, I found it intriguing that none of the apostles were even watching. No one else seemed to be paying much attention and I started to wonder about that too? Did all the talking to... strange women standing at wells, gentiles, lepers and dead bodies Jesus did; make the disciples acclimated to His accessibility, or was there actually a spiritual truth here I was missing?

Could it be that the loving kindness of God is far more willing to literally handle us to heal us, than I ever dared imagine? I wondered as I recalled the previous afternoon when Jesus literally picked me up off the ground. A chill ran through my body as all these questions kept milling around in my head. I let out a sigh for I felt like crying as I remembered Martha, who had long since left of the house. The last shall be first and the first shall be last?

About 20 minutes... _left the house_ ; and even the disciples had exited to the front yard, with the exception of John and Phillip, who appeared to be staying the night. Mary Magdalene was nowhere to be found, but Simon and several of his children stood in the entrance of the narrow hall that led to the kitchen. Jesus wandered back inside and upon seeing these huddled masses went over and hugged and kissed _them_. It was a tearful moment and I wiped my face as I stood and observed how this near stranger had reunited a family by literally delivering Simon from death itself.

What a great miracle that really would be. I sighed as I leaned up against the wall thinking of my own family, who was riddled and shot through with all sorts of social problems and lapses of moral judgement. For a person who believed God could fix anything, boy was I lacking in faith! I began to realize, as it seemed I could feel my soul sliding into my feet. I plopped down on a now vacant bench amongst scattered pillows, a blanket and a couple of square mats that sort of looked like Muslim prayer rugs; as the vague echo of a 20th-century song " _Be the Lord of my Past_ " filtered through my mind, before I even noticed someone had said good night to me too.

I could feel the kiss on my forehead as I quickly glanced up and looked around. The room was now empty except for Jesus who was nigh on exiting the front door. My heart soon joined to my soul in my feet as I felt like I was about to fall off this rustic settee.

A well of confused emotion begin to surface - again! What was happening to me? I wondered. Was I actually lovable? I heard the curious question echo in my head. No, it must've been a mistake; especially after what happened this morning. I grimaced, as I'd figured Jesus would have never tried **_that_** again! I began to sniffle as I could feel the tears trickling down my face, while I watched this mysterious 'lover' for a moment or two just as He left the house.

"Wait a minute!" I mumbled in a half cry as I jumped to my feet and hurried outside. I could see a few of the disciples walking down the dusty path followed by Jesus who was jogging up behind the unsuspecting bunch.

"Where are You going?" I heard my own voice ring through the air as I ran after them.

They all stopped and turned around as I came up to Jesus who was pointing at the house; I presume with some instruction that I should go back inside. But me, being the disobedient mortal 'man' that I'm am; didn't listen. No, instead I scurried up to Jesus and threw my arms around Him. "Good night to You too!" I said just before I kiss the side of His face.

Needless to say, I learned real quick that doing this in the presence of all these men was a big cultural no-no. _And whoever it was who sought to teach me that lesson; also learned real quick that you don't try to hit a 20th-century American war veteran._

"Am-oz'san saw-an" I heard a voice laugh as I let go of the twisted arm of the poor unsuspecting soul laying on the ground before me groaning in pain. It took a minute before I realized I'd been referenced as the member of an ancient race of female warriors. No, I was not an Amazon woman who'd altered her anatomy so it wouldn't get in the way of her bow. I began to chuckle as I patted my right side, just to make sure I still had two breasts.

Not Amazon: American - but close enough!

I looked down at the ground as this rather humiliated disciple got up and cautiously inched away from me. "Sorry Pete." I mumbled the only thing I could think of, although I was pretty sure he wasn't Peter.

I glanced over at Jesus, who was in the middle of saying something to the others before He turned to me.

"Yeah, uh... think I'll go back in the house now." I... _(sort of)_ nervously shrugged; for I didn't know what else to do. I really was sorry he'd gotten hurt; but man don't come running up to me swinging just because I did something ya didn't like. I pondered a minute or two as I held out my hand to the injured disciple in a gesture of apology.

Strangers don't shake hands in this culture either. I realized, as it seemed Jesus had to explain my intent before... embarrassed apostle lent an apprehensive hand. It was a little awkward for everyone as I looked at this disciple's face in the fading glow of the receding moon.

Strange men and women don't look each other in the eye either, but this I already knew. I let out an apologetic sigh as I could see he and everyone else around here (including me) we're having some difficulty overcoming our own cultural biases.

"Peace bro." I finally smiled as I held up two fingers before turning to leave. I stepped around Jesus and waved good night before I headed back into the house. He politely waved back

The expression of thoughtful intrigue that seemed glued to Jesus's face remained stuck in my mind. Even He looked a bit shocked and... fascinated?; by this stranger from some other planet? I chuckled indecisively as I considered how very different (yet exactly the same) our worlds really were. Strange as it was, I thought about how Martha kissed Him and He kissed me. I don't know... but maybe these private acts of affection we seemed to share, were even a stretch for the Son of God? I considered as I thought of little old Martha and her motherly hug. After all, Jesus was somewhere in His 30's and I am a lot younger than Martha.

I thought about Mary as I cautiously crept through the front room on my way back to my sleeping mat. Was she really angry at Martha for kissing Jesus? 'Martha, you had your man, ya even got five... grandkids?' I smirked. 'This one's mine.' I chuckled as I pondered what might have been going through Mary's head. Or maybe she was angry at Jesus for **_letting_** Martha kiss Him? I giggled a bit more. Or maybe the real problem was that He let Martha kiss Him **_but_** _wouldn't let_ Mary kiss Him? I laughed again. But than again... twice He's kissed me... and actually let me kiss Him...? I pondered a bit, as I considered myself to probably be far more inappropriate than Mary would have been. Why should I be so special?

I took a deep breath as I made my way back in the dark, to the room where I'd taken a nap earlier. Low and behold, the mystery what happened to Mary Magdalene was now solved; for she and some other person were laying on the mat across the room sound asleep. Who is that? I wondered as I crept to the window and moved the curtain back to let in some moon light. There next to Mary was one of the teenage girls I'd seen earlier this evening. Is that her daughter? I wondered as I tried in vain to get a good look at the both of them in the dark. I stood by the window a minute longer.

Guess it'll have to wait till morning? I finally decided as I laid down and felt around for my satchel full of the 20th century. I wanted my Walkman. I tried not to cry over this ironic time warp I was apparently stuck in. I'll get home eventually. I kept trying to reassure myself. I will. I will. I'll either get home, or I'll wake up! I let out one last sigh and closed my eyes.


	12. Cleaved in Spirit

**Cleaved in Spirit**

Dawn finally came and went and apparently Mary with it; I realized as I awoke and she was gone. I peered out from beneath the curtain at the children playing in the yard beyond the house and there she was pulling up water from the well. I sank back down onto my mat wondering what kind of night she had, since mine wasn't particularly productive in the realm of restful bliss. I kept waking up to the same strange, stupid dream I'd had many... centuries...ago?

Ehhh... This dream I'd thought... ( _hoped_ )...I'd forgotten until this morning.

It all started with a twelve step group I'd attended... centuries later; in the past of the future as I sit in history past or present? If that makes... whatever sense? But any ways. Survivors of Incest Anonymous, I whispered a'loud as my brain even had trouble choking out the words.

I'd listen to the women in these meetings, especially certain ones who were married, been married a long time and whose husbands were very supportive of them. They'd talk of how much their spouses loved them; regardless of the struggles of having been abused and the ladies sometimes being turned off to their husbands. They, none the less loved their men very much and I was always amazed when they'd speak of how understanding their husbands were. That was the time I started to wonder: Well, maybe being married and having **_that_** kind of husband wouldn't be so bad after all.

There were other women in the meetings too, who had 'different life styles'; some were gay and some just had boyfriends, or live-ins. The women who had good committed relationships (they were more often than not - married) would talk about how their intimate lives with their husbands were nurturing loving experiences for them. They would admit they had their problems, but as a whole, most were happily married.

 _"Of course he loves me". I remember one wife fondly recollecting. "He's the father of my children and he loves his kids; goes to all their games and school events. He's a good dad." Decades would pass before I'd personally realize how important that was._

The women who didn't have committed relationships seemed to only see sex as something that 'felt good'; (no relational depth). _Of course it doesn't take a rocket scientist to see that there can't be relational depth without commitment._

Any how; until that point in my life (I think I was 18 years old) the only sexual experience I'd ever had, was being molested. All my experiences were negative and some people's were positive and that's what was intriguing to me.

Before and after meetings, I would usually take a walk. The cemetery my maternal grandmother was buried in sat right next to the building where my meetings were held. I always sensed there was some ironic symbolism there; since the same incestuous scenario had been played out in her home too. My mother was abused by her own brother and my grandmother - like my mother, never handled the disclosure very well.

'The iniquities of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation...' Well, I was the third link in this chain that I was aware of and the determining factor that I wasn't going to pass this same mess on to my children, sat in the building across the yard. How many of us are willing to face these issues and get help if only for ourselves, regardless of whether or not we ever produce offspring? Either way, my future generations were the furthest thing from my mind at that point. I was the one that needed the help - not them and that's why I kept coming back week after week.

As I'd walk, I would listen to what was (to me at least), a grand new discovery; gospel music, _or rather more accurately - contemporary Christian music._ I liked the songs because they talked about a man who never sinned and for me that was important, since I felt I could trust someone who I knew wouldn't hurt me.

Shortly after that; I had this dream.

I dreamt I was... well _(not sure there's a 'polite' way of saying this)_? Errr... cuddled up oh so close to this man who cared deeply for me; affectionally doing things that felt like no experience I'd ever had before. I just clung to him and squealed eagerly. He could do what he pleased and I was pleased to let him, because I knew he was committed to the protection of my being. I'd been swept up and carried into this place where I could earnestly relinquish all I didn't even know I possessed to total surrender; because for once in my life I knew I was completely safe!

The boisterous howling elation that erupted from the depths of somewheres beyond us, was enthralling. We sang a song that filled our insides; beyond the capacity - _of what ever this glory was we'd tapped into._ God, you give us wonders beyond our ability to articulate. We both wailed until this boundless mighty surging flood left us utterly silent.

Thank You! We gazed of one mind into each other's wide eyes; for we were now cleaved of one... Spirit.

What was going on inside of me? I almost felt as if I was bursting with life. Something new springing up from the depths of a part of me I'd long thought was dead. How is it y.. ya... _You_ bring this body back to life? A tiny whisper ascended, flittering through the still air to the ear of God Almighty who seemed to be... listening?

I could feel the stillness of his breathing and the warmth of the life that surged through him with every heart beat that rang in my ears. Our souls merged into single breath and beat as we sighed contentedly and sleepily drifted off into some other dream world.

Later on, I'd woke into passing back through this dream toward consciousness. I started to become a little alarmed; for I noticed I was laying on this man's chest. He was wearing a nice soft white nightgown and I too wrapped in the same type of garment. Oh Yeah, I remember you. I thought to myself as I happily hugged him. We were here before I fell asleep. All these warm feeling from the previous encounter started to flood back.

By this time, I was starting to wake up for real and I remember thinking: What's going on here? I've never had this kind of experience before. This has got to be a dream. I wonder who this is? I picked my head up to look at his face. It was Jesus. I remember thinking: something isn't right here and feeling kind of uneasy. I put my head back down though and went back to sleep.

I didn't remember this dream until a few days later and I don't even recall what triggered the memory; but as soon as it came back to me, I felt absolutely horrible. I was so sorry, I started crying. I thought I had done something terribly wrong, like I had some how given Jesus a disease. I was very afraid and profoundly ashamed of myself.

It was probably weeks before I had gotten up enough courage to tell one of the ladies in the incest survivor meetings about this dream. Her only reply was - Oh don't worry about it. It's OK...That's the way things are suppose to be. It's wonderful etc. She suggested something like, I get a boyfriend and try it out. I wasn't about to do that, but I was wondering if sex could possibly be a non-painful experience. I finally got up enough courage to see for myself.

The idea of experimenting on another person was too frightening and just absolutely unappealing; (besides, even at that point having a pretty clear understanding that if I'd actually done that - God would not be happy with me and I certainly didn't want to make Him indigent). So I decided I'd try it on myself. I knew if I didn't like this, I could stop and I knew that probably wouldn't be the case if another person was involved.

It took a couple of weeks of... planning, _(err)_ as I was so nervous about the whole thing and wasn't really sure which direction I should go; explore this idea or just pretend it wasn't important? I knew this was plaguing me too much to ignore; but I had no idea how to resolve it? I still don't.

I remember praying: God, I know You want me to get better, but I don't know what I'm doing and I have no clue how I'm actually going to overcome this dread. I sensed though, that God didn't want me to stay stuck where I was, so I had to do... _something._

I was walking through the mall one afternoon, when I saw this beautiful pink prairie style nightgown in... _Yeah... Victoria's Secret._ It was so cute and I remember being incredibly nervous just walking into the store to look at the price. There was a rack of these night gowns in various colors, but I had taken a liking to the pink one. It was a bit more than I could afford, so I decided on Kmart to see if they had similar pajamas. When I saw they did; I decided to save myself some money and made my purchase there.

So with new pretty night gown in hand, several more meetings and hours of attempting to journal away my fears; I concluded that I was as ready as I'd ever be. So - this was it.

I waited for an afternoon when no one was home. I picked the daytime because the dark hid too many scary memories. I took a shower, dawned my fresh new clean cuddly nightgown, went upstairs and crawled into bed. I remember praying: OK God, now what do I do? The little wheels in my head began to turn and since I noted that I liked hugs: _Start with giving yourself a hug and... you'll figure out the rest from there._

Well, about 20 minutes later... _Yeah, I figured the rest out._

I remember being pleasantly surprised and a bit confused at the same time? _Well, just like my dream; at least that didn't hurt._ And I snuck over to my sister's desk and swiped her hand held mirror. I turned the light on, laid down again and... inspected my own anatomy.

Oddly as it seemed to me at the time, what I was looking at was... pink. I don't know why I'd assumed differently, but I was expecting to see rotting flesh. No, I marveled. _It's alive!_ I poked around a bit trying to figure out what was what. _It took page or two of searching through my college biology book before I realized that little flowery looking thing was the entrance to my bladder._

So that was that; the commencement of my... _introduction to something other than the pain of sexual abuse_. In the beginning, I suppose I was well enough pleased with my discovery; albite still incredibly confused by all of it. Ever since though; my self experiments seem to have turned into a cage I couldn't (and still can't) get out of.

After that, I went into the military. There was a war on and I was confronted with a serious dilemma; the possibility of my own death. Of course with death I was facing yet another pressing problem; hell? I kept going to church regardless of how bad I felt most of the time. I tried every suggestion anyone had to get right with God. I learned a lot of Bible while I was in the army, but the more I learned about the Law, the more condemned I felt.

When I finally came to the realization that Jesus was God, I felt sick to my stomach. I apologized to Him (Jesus in particular) for what I'd done and tried very hard to forget this dream. I attempted to write it down as a sort of catharsis, but somehow just kept reinforcing to myself - your not suppose to have good feelings about sex. It will always be a bad experience for you, so just accept it. It's time to stop this disgusting "experimentation" of yours and get on with life.

The whole dream and the life I've continued to live; has caused me a lot of pain, frustration, resentment, self hatred and jealousy. I feel hopelessly trapped. I know I haven't committed the unforgivable sin, forgiveness is possible: I just don't feel like I have it though. I keep wondering; God, what's wrong with me? How come I can't seem to get it right? Why can't I just let it go?

I sat quietly for the longest time and tried not to think of anything. I knew I was now on overload and mentally and physically couldn't take any more. I know myself to get this way far more than just occasionally. I'm tired! I said as I laid down and tried to remember some song that might make me feel better.

I turned my radio on and suddenly remembered _(in my attempts to find a station)_ ; that there weren't any to be had. Strait from Caesar's Palace: sort of like Radio Moscow, it's Radio Rome! I finally laughed in an attempt to break up some of the monotony of my depression.


	13. Live to Tell

**Live to Tell**

I waited (rather impatiently) for sleep to set in while my mind wandered to Ivan. He was a kid I knew who came over from Russia with his brother on some medical exchange program. Yuri had cancer and as a good will gesture, he was brought to Children's Hospital of Buffalo for treatment.

I have a tale to tell, some times it gets so hard to hide it well. I started humming as the words to one of Ivan's favorite American songs came to mind. Oh yes, Ivan certainly had a tale to tell. Sadly to say, we both shared the same tale. "The light that you could never see, it hides inside you can't take that from me." I mumbled along as I tried to remember the words. Funny how I haven't thought about Ivan in what seems like years. I sighed as I wondered where he was now and what he was doing. "A man can tell a thousand lies, I've learned my lesson well, hope I live to tell the secret I have learned; till then, it will burn inside of me."

I met Ivan at an ice rink up in the city over Christmas break of 198? ... something. I'd gone up with my cousins and just could not help but notice this kid with a down jacket and big fur hat on. He was kind of a strange looking young teen boy; culturally confused maybe, with his Levi jeans, Buffalo Bills coat and CCCP sweatshirt - not to mention his 'comrade' hat. He struggled with English and I guess since I always liked foreigners, we became fast friends.

Ivan and Yuri stayed with the brother of their deceased mother, in a tiny apartment not too far from the hospital. Uncle Victor was a raging drunk and Ivan would come to school with mysterious bruises every so often. He showed up almost literally on my door step one Saturday morning, all alone with two black eyes. That was the beginning of the end of our local Dr. Zhivago saga.

I was on a quest of my own that day. After spending nearly a year in counseling and sneaking around the self-help section of the bookstore while my parents were in the mall; I found a title I just couldn't live without. The Courage to Heal - _women survivors of child sexual abuse._ I wanted to see if I could get my 15-year-old self onto a bus, up into the city, out to the mall and back home again with my little treasure of recovery contraband stuffed in my big coat. It was spring time and I had $25 in Easter money; which I knew was enough for the book (since I scoped out the price earlier that week upon my parents excursion to the antique show) and a snack.

It was early that morning and I was about to embark upon my mission, when I passed the school playground and saw a familiar form sitting on one of the swings. Right then, I knew something was wrong, for I'd never seen Ivan in my neck of the woods before. I hesitated a moment or two before I went over to check out the situation. What was I going to do about my book now? I began to question, since I was still too ashamed to let Ivan in on the dirty little secret that sometimes happens in America. Little did I know, Ivan had a secret of his own.

I floundered back and forth wondering if I should wait on the book as I walked up to Ivan; greeting him with as cheery of a hello as I could manage. He was sitting there with tears running out of his blackened eyes and nervous hands clinging to something in the pocket of his favorite jacket he'd brought from Russia. I looked at him a minute, almost afraid to ask what happened when he suddenly blurted out something about the police.

In a furry of rage and tears, Ivan started screaming about how he hated America and wanted to go back home where he was safe and bad things didn't happen. I only stood in shock and watched. I'd seen a few, more subdued episodes of these tantrums in the past couple of months, but never understood why he so favored a country all of us Americans perceived to be so oppressed and backwards? I always thought it was just the jealous rantings of a confused little boy spouting communist propaganda when something flew out of his pocket that suddenly shed some light on why he despised America so much.

I reached out and snatched it up when I noticed a look of sheer terror flash across Ivan's face. What is this your hiding? I wanted to know as he chased me around the playground trying to retrieve what I thought was just a piece of paper. I stopped and turned around when I discovered Ivan suddenly become frantically preoccupied with grabbing up the other little pieces of paper that had fluttered out of his pocket. I looked down at the object in question and it was then that I realized, it was a Polaroid photograph of... him.

"Oh my God!" I remember saying as I gasped at the picture and then back at Ivan who was now flailing on the ground in a fit of unbridled fury. Uncle Victor evidently was into more than just vodka. I realize as I could feel this overwhelming flood of anguish boil up inside of me. I sat on the grass and just started to sob while Ivan continued screaming endless courses in Russian at the air and pounding the ground with his fists. Not even the Berlin wall can contain his rage and I felt so helpless as I sat across this proverbial ocean watching the iron curtain collapse in on this miniature Soviet Union. Just like his country's wails for openness and economic reform, Ivan's world had spun out of control and he'd lost his grip on everything.

I don't remember too much more between that and the time I heard the sirens. When the squad car pulled up, I just sat there in a daze with the photo in my hand. Everything sort of drifted by in slow motion, as I watched two police officers jump out of the cruiser and run over to aid the school security guard who is trying to stop Ivan from hurting himself. It was the first time I'd ever witnessed the mental hygiene arrest.

Ivan was strapped to a gurney and they were loading him into the ambulance before anyone noticed I was still sitting in the field. A female police detective came over with a wad of tissues in her hand and sat down in the grass next to me. She took the photo to give to her partner, who was walking around picking up evidence. "What's going to happen to him?" I finally asked.

My inquiry was met with a short explanation that Ivan was on his way to the child and adolescent psychiatric unit of the nearest hospital, while police would be working on a warrant for his uncle's arrest. She then asked if I wanted a ride home. Oh... no. I shook my head. "I'm going to the mall." I blurted out. The woman responded with a peculiar expression, followed by a shrug. She then offered me her card, with the encouragement that if I ever need help to call.

I politely thanked her as I got up and headed over to the front of the school, where the bus stop was waiting across the street. I thought about Ivan all the way to the mall and how in an ironic, roundabout way, he'd 'lived to tell'. I wonder if he knows about me? I kept asking myself, as I couldn't get out of my head the fact that he'd come all the way down to my neighborhood for some reason.

He was mumbling something about the police. I recalled as it suddenly became evident to me that he might have been heading there in the first place and wanted me for some moral support. This I found kind of odd, as I considered the KGB and how I'd heard that most Russians avoided the cops like the snow in Siberia. But maybe Ivan didn't think America was so bad, if he was willing to trust our men in blue? Either way, I guess it isn't so odd; if you consider how any kind of pornography was illegal back in the USSR.

My thoughts continued to wander as I caught myself fantasizing about telling the cops my story too. I don't know though; at least Ivan had a family to go home to, even if this uncle rots in prison for the rest of his life. I wouldn't have anything left. I started to cry again, as I thought about how maybe Ivan really was the one worthy of this book; since he had far more 'courage to heal' than I did.

 _ **If I ran away, I'd never have the strength to go very far.**_

 _ **How would they hear, the beating of my heart?**_

 _ **Will it grow cold; the secret that I hide, will I grow old?**_

 _ **How will they hear? When will they learn? How will they know?**_

 _ **The truth is never far behind? You kept it hidden well,**_

 _ **If I live to tell the secret I have learned;**_

 _ **Till then, it will burn inside of me.**_

I got all the way to the mall with no problem as I sat down to a burger and soda with the hopes of collecting myself before I went into the bookstore. With all that had just happened, it didn't seem like such a big deal now to walk in and pick up this book. Who's really going to be too overly concerned about some teenage girl with a child-abuse book under her arm? Maybe they will just be thinking that I am already were Ivan is headed; some foster home.

Without much further adu, I found my way to Walden's and purchased my book. Funny how I remembered even being worried that there wouldn't be any books left. I held it against my jacket so no one could see the cover and laid it facedown on the counter at the register. After all that, I was still so ashamed? I thought to myself as I carried the brownbag book of my curse out of the store.

I pondered this as I did several laps around the mall thinking about Ivan and how I didn't want to go home. I really wanted to go to the hospital, though had to admit I was really too frightened. Maybe I'll go Monday or some other day this week? I could go to homeroom, so they'd record me as being 'in school' and skip out on second through fourth periods to be back after lunch. I told myself as I started wandering through stores in hopes of finding something that would help Ivan. I had a hard time finding anything, since all the merchandise I encountered seem to 'American'. I finally gave up as I headed for the bus stop, when an idea came to me.

I had a homemade cabbage patch doll I'd spent several months pestering my mother to take me to Joann Fabrics to buy remnants to finish dressing my doll. He was done in the traditional Ukrainian garb I'd seen dancers arrayed in at least a year prior, when our marching band went to a rally for the campaign of Ronald Reagan. I was pretty sure Ivan would like the doll because he appreciated things that weren't manufactured; although I wasn't really sure, since it was in fact... a doll. I finally decided it would be okay to give Ivan my doll (who I also named Ivan) and that I can bring it all wrapped up and I could hold on to it for him until he went home, if he wanted me to.

Well, with that settled, I took the last bus out that I possibly could and still get home for supper on time. Much to the surprise of myself though; when I got on the bus, I actually showed someone what I bought. There was an African American man in the seat in front of me, nicely dressed in a tan suit, who struck up a conversation with me. He said he was the youth pastor of some church in the city and for some reason, I felt compelled to show him my book. He said something along the lines of; it was important to work through that stuff and he was glad I had the book. When we came to his stop, he wished me well on my journey, said that he'd pray for me and got off the bus. I turned the other way and stared out the window as we passed the hospital. I wondered how Ivan was doing?

I got home that night and no one noticed anything out of the ordinary. Fortunately the school was far enough away from home that the cop story about the little Russian kid hadn't gotten around our neighborhood yet. I waited a couple of days to hear something; but to my relief, it wasn't much. This sort of surprised me, for my brother was so nosy about the local community news since he became a volunteer fireman. I was just glad _**he**_ wasn't on _**that**_ call! The very thought made me shutter.

Several days passed before I got enough courage to sneak out of school and take a trip up to the hospital. All sorts of things went through my head as I got off the bus with this box hidden in my backpack; and I was pretty sure Ivan was on a locked ward. Well, I was never going to know if I didn't try. I finally convinced myself and since I'd already come this far; there was no turning back now. As I walked into the hospital it became more important to me to see my friend, then whether or not I got in trouble. So with new resolve, I got into the elevator and headed to the psych ward.

They would not let me in because it was not visiting hours in the first place. That was the day I learned the mental health department had different (and much more restricted) visiting hours than the rest of the hospital. I pestered the nurse enough though, that she took my present and after opening it to check for contraband, assured me she would leave it in Ivans room for him. She finally confessed that he actually wasn't there at the time; a psych tech was taking him for medical tests. I thanked her very much for accepting my gift on behalf of Ivan, as well as not turning me into the truant officer and I left the hospital to go back to school.

As I walked back to the bus stop, I thought about Ivan and his medical tests. What were they testing him for? I wondered, as an uneasy feeling crept up my spine. Did Ivan have some sort of disease? I wondered as I was suddenly hit by a wave of fear.

My memories retreated to a mysterious rash I had contracted back in the second grade. I was always curious as to what it was, since my mother never took me to the doctor. Now that I think about it; I'm not even sure she knew I had this rash?

Either way, I figured if it was something like gonorrhea, I'd been on enough rounds of antibiotics for ear infections and the suchlike, to kill whatever it might've been; if anything? My fears were not totally alleviated though, until I got into the military and they checked all of us for venereal diseases. I waited for the results and since all my tests from medical came back as never having been exposed to the illnesses in question, I felt pretty sure that rash was something of a more (At least physically) benign nature.

Well, I guess of all the questions; at least that one is settled. I reassured myself as I lay watching the curtain above me inch its way into and back out of the window in rhythm to the winds outside. All the people I'd met so far on this odd journey strolled through my mind; along with Ivan, as I thought about how we all have a history of some kind. Ivan did end up with a few ailments (besides those of the psychological sort) from his encounter with the world of child porn; but fortunately, it never turned out to be something permanent like herpes or HIV.

I was fighting back all those old feelings of being polluted and dirty when Jesus suddenly popped into my mind. How'd He manage to avoid all these sorts of pitfalls and come out some 30 odd years later, literally untouched? I guess some people would chalk that up to luck, but I think there's far more to it than that. I pondered as I found myself struggling with latent feelings of jealousy for a body that had never been abused; or even in the case of Jesus, used period. I chuckled as I scolded myself once more for such an awful thought. Oh for the things I wished I'd never known. I sighed. Life just seems is so unfair sometimes.

Anyhow; almost a week later I got some mail. Oddly enough it came to the school through my counselor's office. She'd brought it with her to my appointment and handed it to me when I came in the door. It was from the hospital and inside was a construction paper card with the United Nations flag drawn on the front and a new Polaroid inside. Ivan was sitting on a chair in front of the window of his hospital room with the doll in his arms and a sad smile on his face. The writing was barely legible, but it said "I finally free!" Ivan was still very sick and had a long way to go, but the smile was a good sign. It was then that I started to cry, for I knew he was going to be alright. I could see that; I just wasn't so sure about me?

I'm still not!


	14. Redneck River Run

**Redneck River Run**

Most of the morning crawled into oblivion as I 'hearkened unto' tape after tape, trying to console myself... _somehow._ I periodically sat up to peer out the window as different voices would announce their passing. Jesus 'materialized' sometime late that morning and I just sat watching, as He and John spent about an hour or so entertaining (and being entertained by) Simon's children.

The little boy (who was about eight or nine years old) would do somersaults, hand springs and other various feats of acrobatics; then ask the two adults if they could copy him. John's only contribution to this little Olympic competition, was the fact that he could do a pretty mean somersault into a head stand, some decent handstands, as well as some of the most creative falling I'd ever seen. Jesus only stood and watched, which I found sort of odd as I began to wonder if He really couldn't do anything like that; why not? _I thought every 8 year old boy in history, had at least learned to do a proper cartwheel?_

I sat back down on the mat while my eyes wandered around a minute or two, before I finally felt like I'd recovered enough from the emotional pain of my... bothersome dreams _and sad recollections;_ to get dressed, so I could scope out what was around for lunch. I pulled on the clothes from the night before and finally gathered enough courage to leave the room.

 _How much does He really know about me and the sad state of affairs that have filled my heart for so many years? I tried not to cry._ _After all, there was no doubt I was depressed and living in some blackhole of the emotions..._

An uncanny sense of... relief filled my mind, as I could finally admit the degradation lurking in my own soul. I wobbled down the hall somewhere between emotional hysteria and Desert Storm vertigo; sort of feeling like I was drowning? All of my insides hurt so bad and I started to wonder if death really could end it all; or would it just plunged me into a world of eternal suffering?

Even though I couldn't stand it, I started to realize; what I honestly did yearn for was whatever that dream offered in its symbolism. I needed Someone to love me.

I made my way down the hall into the kitchen, when I met Mary at the door carrying a fresh bucket of water. I quickly stepped aside as she hurried the heavy load over to the wash basin and set it on the floor. I searched around until I found a piece of fruit that at least seemed vaguely familiar. It was sitting in a bowl on a table far away from the working women, so I figured it was up for grabs. I snatched it up as I stepped outside. I stood in the shadow of the house, not sure what I should do, when I noticed Jesus sitting in one of these little funny looking type of... lawn chairs?.. next to a tree stump tossing shreds of flatbread to the birds.

I waited, struggling for several minutes before I got the courage to walk up to Him. I hadn't the faintest idea what to say, since we couldn't understand each other anyways; at least in terms of words. It must be something about this time we're living in? I let out a sigh as I looked at the little ants on the ground and then at the hut across the yard.

The Holy Spirit didn't come on the apostles to speak in foreign languages until about a month into this future. I started to ponder as I headed for the 'bathroom'. But why wouldn't Jesus Himself be able to speak some other language if He really wanted to? The question kept bugging me, for I knew anything was possible, but wondered why it wasn't happening the way I thought it should? Well, maybe that's the problem? I realized. It's not up to how _I_ think it should be.

Well, I guess not. I concluded as I left the little outhouse and the door banged shut behind me. But haven't you always had that problem? Always wanting things your own way? I sputtered to myself as I stopped by the well wash basin to rinse my hands

I stood for several minutes instinctively searching for a bar of soap. Yeah ha ha? I finally shook my head as I picked up some sand and rubbed my hands dry. I rinsed them once more, seeming satisfied that I had washed all of the germs off (or at least enough of them); before I dumped the remnants of the basin. I sort of chuckled to myself as I thought of a fact I had learned in biology class; urine is actually sterile - _its the body that it's coming from that isn't_. Oh well! I let out a sigh as I plopped down in one of these... chairs, suddenly noticing Jesus was gone.

Where'd He go now? I scratched my head as I sat in this kind of strange (but surprisingly comfortable) contraption of a... lawn chair. My poor little lost mine wandered around the inside of my skull, until I thought I had nearly fallen asleep again. Why was I always so incessantly tired? My brain jumped to the next of a million or so questions, when Jesus interrupted my mental meandering with a tug of the sleeve. I finally came to and looked at Him. He only let out a little laugh and gestured that maybe I should go back in the house before I realized that; yes indeed, I had actually fall asleep - again! The sun was high in the sky. Had I really zonked out that long? I marveled as I too... chuckled a bit.

I watched the trees while they swayed in the passing breezes with their branches waving at me. I always liked the sound of the rustling leaves, as I thought about the Spirit of God, who's like the wind, coming and going and we never tell from what to wear or even when. I mused a minute at my poetic translation, before I noticed I was sitting alone in the yard.

I glanced back and forth, even getting up and turning around a few times before Jesus emerged again into my line of sight from behind one of the trees. "Where You going? Get back here." I mumbled to myself as I jumped up, wondering how He'd snuck off so quickly without me noticing.

I followed Jesus (along with the growing sound of children's voices), down a well worn path. I assumed the children were playing in the creek, as I could hear flowing water. I came around a couple of trees before I found the brood of about four children, three teenagers, a couple of moms and a dad. All the adults were sitting on a rock by the bank, while the kids were splashing each other in this rather large creek... _which was almost a river, it was so wide in this particular local_. All were in various stages of undress, the youngest of which were running through the shallow part of the creek naked.

Interesting? I thought to my self as I looked at the lot of them. They sort of reminded me of redneck camping summers, sitting by the river, drinking beers, fishing and comparing snapping turtles caught. I laughed as I walked down towards where everyone else was. Jesus was standing between myself and the other adults, peeling off layers of clothing. When He got down to His kethoneth, He tied a cord around His waist, pulled the garment up between His legs and went wading into the water.

He managed to squat down in the waist deep swimming hole before any of the rambunctious teenagers ended up dunking Him. I watched in amazement, as these two boys and a girl were standing in water of various depths, laughing and screaming as they were now slinging mud at each other. They all have up and coming careers in politics. I chuckled to myself.

Jesus paddled off to one side; quietly washing His face and arms, just minding His own business, when the girl snuck up behind Him and deposited a large mud pie on HIs head. He turned around to catch the culprit, who was now running away giggling hysterically. She wasn't quite fast enough though, as Jesus lunged sideways, stuck a hand out and caught her by the ankle. I snickered when she let out a screech, threw her arms out in front of her and did a belly flop right into the river.

The boys were roaring as the girl got up to chase them, while poor Jesus was shaking His head and wiping mud out of His eyes. He leaned over a minute, rubbing the mud through His hair before He submerged Himself in the water. He repeated this ritual before He stood up and started walking toward the other adults.

Meanwhile, another mischievous child had managed to sneak up on the girl and mud pie her in return; only to be slyly scuttled behind his brother. When she swung around to nab the sneaky fellow, the only one in her line of sight was Jesus. She let out another screech as she took one leap and tried to shove Him. That didn't work either, as He'd caught her out of the corner of His eye, quickly ducked forward and she went into the river for belly flop number two. He'd pulled that same move on me. I started to laugh as I realized that, now I knew where He'd gotten it from.

Jesus reached behind Him and pulled the girl up by one arm as she was now howling in; what I wasn't sure if it was playfulness or annoyance? She took one look at Jesus and started vigorously twisting her torso and head, as her long hair whipped around sending mud flying in all directions. Everyone in the immediate vicinity pulled a 'duck and cover'; except Jesus who only raised a hand to shield His face. After it was over, He first opened one eye, giving her the most dead pan...Eh, yeah - OK?...Thanks for sharing expression of 'what's up with that'? I had ever seen. I started to laugh. For if there was ever a clearer revelation of what our Creator thinks of our childish antics down here on Earth; that would have been it!

After another round of mud flinging commenced; Jesus quickly disappeared under the water, only to reemerge over by the rock the other adults were sitting on. He'd ducked under again _(apparently holding onto something under water)_ and in one motion managed to launch Himself up into a sitting position onto this rock, next to one of the moms. I started to chuckle as this move looked sort of like an Antarctic penguin flying out of the ocean.

So, I suppose this is one of the things they do to bathe. I figured as several more folks were coming down the path behind me. They too peeled off layers of clothing and went diving into the river. I looked around and let out a sigh. Well, I guess when in Rome... I concluded, as I too peeled off layers and headed into the water.

I soon came to realize why these kethoneths; (although rather light weight) were of a fairly densely woven fabric, while the outer clothing layers, with exception of some of the tunics; were thiner and lighter. In the instances of public bathing, you can't see through them. I'd also realized as I emerged from the water, while watching others get dressed again; another practicality of this desert attire. People just put their 'street clothes' back on over the damp undergarments after they'd been sitting to dry out a bit.

Jesus didn't wait too long to dry out, before He was ringing out the bottom of His kethoneth and pulling His other clothes back on. I stood and watched a minute while He picked up His sandals and stopped by the bank to rinse them off. From there He put them on and began walking up river. He had nearly disappeared from sight, before I hurriedly got dressed to see where He was going.

I was jogging along to catch up when Jesus did something unexpected and began to cross the river. I stood on the shore a moment contemplating that the shortest distance between two points is a strait line; a strait line between where I was and where He was going. OK I shrugged, deciding that if I really was going to 'pull a Peter'; just don't look down.

So I stepped out onto the river and began running across the surface. This is weird, I giggled to myself as I could feel the water splashing on my legs while I ran. Then as I was gaining water on Jesus, a crazy idea popped into my head and in a daring act of faith; I threw my hands in the air and took a flying leap. I came out of my cartwheel still standing on the river facing Jesus; who was now looking back at me with an expression of - OK? Now what... in God's name... are _you_ **_doing?_**

"Don't look down." I nervously squeaked the only thing that came to mind; before I took two more steps and one leap, when Jesus suddenly realized - I better prepare to catch her. He stood there... proximately holding on, as I'd managed to wrap both my arms and legs around His body, before I... looked down.

"My faith aint exactly perfect Lord." I sheepishly confessed.

Yeah... creative! Jesus's expression noted, before a snicker escaped. He walked another 10 or so feet and I fell off Him when we got to the bank. He stood there a minute or two gazing at me, before He leaned over, grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet. He let out a sigh; _seeming half perplexed and half amused_ before He shook His head, giggled a bit and started walking again.


	15. Into the Wilderness

**Into the Wilderness**

I followed Jesus as He made His way up the bank into an adjacent field of overgrown grass and weeds. As I continued to follow, He just kept walking, not seeming to pay too much attention to me. We persevered on for quite some time, through several fields and passed some trees until we came to a road. Hum, this is interesting? I thought to myself as we crossed the street and headed west. I wonder where we're going.

We traveled this path for a good 45 minutes or so, when I figured we must be headed to the next town. We passed two farmers in their fields and a few people headed in the other direction; but for the most part, there was no one around except the occasional flock of sheep or goats scattered in the hills. I kept pace, though still several feet behind, when I noticed Jesus veer off the road and down into a ditch with some short scrubby type bushes.

The infamous squat. I sort of smirked as the very same image resurfaced from the Bedouins in the deserts of Saudi Arabia during the war. Well, I guess absolutely _**nothing**_ is changed in 2000 thousand years. I quietly chuckled with a fold of the arms and a stare off in the opposite direction; while I patiently waited for Him to finish. And all this time, I still can't figure out how they manage without messing themselves, or flashing the rest of the world? Thirty some odd years of practice I suppose. I scratched my head as I glanced over at Jesus who was now standing over a puddle that was quickly dissipating into the dusty ground. Oh how things changed when men started wearing pants. I let out one last chuckle and we continued on our journey.

The wind was beginning to pick up along with this eerie wail that was howling through the pass. The day was starting to get... creepy? So, I was relieved to see a town in our not too distant future. Another familiar image from the war began to take form as I noticed Jesus pull His headpiece up over His face and wind it around His neck once; a sure sign of an impending sandstorm. I soon followed suit, as it was much more comfortable than feeling like I was being constantly targeted by a vindictive sandblaster. I also pulled my arms up into my big billowy sleeves in order to protect my hands.

How backwards, yet practical this clothing was. I thought to myself, as more memories surfaced of the absolute despise for such traditions I'd seen from most of my American comrades in arms. Yes, this desert fashion was certainly not as fab as the runways in Paris, or as flashy as New York, but it was definitely functional. Besides who needs fab and flashy when you're only hiding from a brown blizzard?

We headed down the road into town when Jesus turned around once to check and see if I was still there; or I suppose? Yes, I'm still back, here following you - God. I heard the voice in my own head rather nonchalantly respond. Yes, following God. I reminded myself as I peered up into the swirling sand that funneled its way up to heaven in cute little baby tornadoes.

How small I suddenly felt as I turned back toward the one and only person who could control this wind with the mere sound of His voice. I started to wonder what it must've been like for Peter and whoever else was in the ship that night to see such a similar storm literally disappear. When we as mere mortals scream at each other in the midst of the howling winds, only half hearing what the other is saying and with one quiet command, the forces of nature obey Him. I only wish I had that much control over myself! I let out one last cynical laugh.

I started to wonder if maybe He'd calm this storm too? Either way, I guess it doesn't matter. I shrugged as I kept walking, thinking how God really has nothing to prove to me. I already know what He can do; (for my awkward cartwheel / unorthodox display of wavering faith back there at the river). I smirked to myself as I looked up a minute. All this thinking, I guess has slow down my legs, for I had apparently fallen a little behind. I noticed as I glanced up at Jesus who was standing in the road looking back over His shoulder at me. "I'm coming." I mumbled, but more to myself than to Him, as I picked up my pace.

I hurried on over, stopping when I got a good look at His face. What's wrong with You? I was suddenly taken back. The first question hitting me as I stood and stared for just a minute or so. He looked very sad and oddly pale and I started to question if He was sick or something? No that didn't seem quite right. He was OK back at the river; but still looked awfully tired? I noticed as I watched Him gazing back at me with the same expression I've seen on the faces of my fellow soldiers: just before they passed out.

That thought didn't make me feel any better, as I turned away a minute with the realization that there was absolutely nothing I could actually do. Boy, what a problem we would all have if God Himself fainted from the journey, but I don't even think that's possible? I puzzled a minute or two.

I felt a little better when I noticed Jesus moved a few paces and not with the intent of falling over into a lapse of consciousness. "Are you okay?" I inquired while He turned around and just sort of shook His head, as if He'd actually answered me? It was then I realized that there was something important going on here that I was just not getting.

I crept a few steps closer before I stopped, while the past night flashed through my mind. Atonement was the only answer that came echoing back at me and I began to wonder if that was it? Nothing else I could think of made any sense, when the revelation suddenly hit me.

Three days and 3 nights in the heart of the earth? Could that have actually started last night? The wheels of my tiny little mortal brain begin to spin. I pondered as I counted the days on my fingers. Sundown Tuesday to sundown Wednesday is one day, Wednesday to Thursday is two and Thursday to Friday is three. 'It is finished.' Friday afternoon; and three nights previous, some 'mysterious' woman poured oil over His head for His burial. I wonder if that's when He started being buried? I questioned with a tilt of the head as I looked up at Jesus. He didn't answer, just stared, looking half overwhelmed and half on the verge of tears.

I wanted to tell Him that I knew He was going to make it; though, I just couldn't find the words. It seemed simple enough to say, so why was my mouth glued shut? I grumbled in frustration as I walked up, grabbed Him by the cloak and pulled Him toward me. I looked into His eyes searching for something I couldn't put my finger on. Please tell _**me**_ You're going to make it through this. I found myself pleading, as a face that wasn't so sure Himself stared back.

"What is going on?" I begged for an answer, when one of those everyday life events suddenly explained it for me. I heard a door bang shut and I turned around to see a small farm house off in the field. A mother was leaving the yard as her two year-old stood behind a fence with his little arms sticking through the slats helplessly wailing for her, when it suddenly hit me.

Atonement! He was going through the same process - separation from the only 'Parent' He spent His life laboring to please. I realized as I found myself fighting back the tears. I don't even think I can imagine what it would be like if someone could reach inside and rip out the Holy Spirit. That would totally destroy me! I began to dread, as I glanced back at Jesus and finally let go. My arms fell to my sides and I stared at Him for several more long minutes.

I stopped short though, still standing in front of Him, suddenly at a loss of what I should do. I really wanted to hug Him, but wasn't sure if that would even be appropriate? It seemed like such an inadequate response for the incredible depth of pain I knew He must be in. Maybe if I sinned less, it wouldn't be so bad? The thought came to mind; although I knew in the magnitude of all of eternity, that idea was really a moot point.

"I'm sorry." I finally said for it was all I could think of. I really didn't expect a response, for I knew in terms of Hell and punishment, justice and wrath, my apology meant absolutely nothing. I was utterly shocked though when Jesus nodded as if to say; yes I know and then started to sob.

My jaw just about hit the ground as I stood paralyzed by His reaction. He was obviously suffering, yet acknowledged that He knew my remorse. The judgment of the Supreme ruler of all created things rested on the man of sorrows standing before me and boy was it rarely ever so clear that He was well acquainted with our grief.

Jesus took a few steps and stumbled off to the side of the road before He just plopped down almost as if some invisible force and knocked Him over. I found myself standing with my hands out, as if I thought I could somehow catch Him on His descent into death. I stared at my fingers as they curled up like withered twigs burned by the flame.

Jesus let out a groan as He glanced up at me and wiped His eyes several times. He put one hand on the ground and rolled over onto His hands and knees before He got up. I waited a minute or two; even making an effort to offer my help, but instead of standing He leaned over resting His face in His hands. He started mumbling something and it took a minute or two for me to come out of my daze, before I realized what was going on.

I started to cry too as feelings of fear and doom set in. I felt so helpless watching Him pray to a Father I knew was turning a deaf ear; since He was pleased to bruise Jesus. I thought of praying too; although I figured it would be pretty pointless, since if the Father wasn't listening to his own Son, there was literally no chance in hell He was going to hear me! If there was ever a point I was terrified enough to run - it was now! Even so; I stood there.

Several very long minutes passed before Jesus sat up. He turned and looked at me, in which He let out a little gasp and struggled to His feet. He had an expression on His face that I couldn't quite identify as He threw his arms around me and took one last a deep breath. This made me a little uncomfortable, for I wasn't sure why He seem to find such solace in my presence; since I was one of the reasons He was facing this eternal punishment the first place. Why would He consider any of us who truly deserve it? I wondered to myself as He hugged me all the more and finally let out a sigh of...relief; or was it more resignation?

Come on, time to leave. He motioned after letting go and walking away a few steps. With one last sniffle, He wiped His face as He gave my sleeve a tug and I finally began to move. Is there some reason I'm here to actually witness this? I questioned as I never before pondered the possibility of whether God needs us? Of course He doesn't. I answered as I knew it was silly to think an eternal, self existence, all powerful Creator would need a finite mortal. We needing Him is more the order I'm accustomed to; so maybe, just maybe, it's not need that motivates either of the three of Him - but want? Pure and simple desire! I marveled as I watched Jesus, who had stopped again to wait for me. Whatever it was that drives Him, He's willing to die for it.

This revelation stuck in my head as I wearily tripped on down the road. How does He really see this world and what does He think of us? I began to wonder. What about heaven and hell, God's sovereignty, man's will, justice, punishment for sin, repentance and redemption? I don't know; maybe it's just simple love?


	16. Soldier's Saloon

**Soldier's Saloon**

My mind was still stuffed full of theological ramblings, when I realized we'd come to some sort of inn / tavern. A man met us at the door; took one good look at Jesus, before he led us to the back of the building. He reached in a window, soon producing a wooden basin, which he handed to me and I kind of chuckled: Giant salad bowl was the only thing that came to mind. Next the innkeeper pulled out a large clay jar. He gave that to Jesus, who poured some water into the basin and proceeded to wash His hands. Not a bad idea; since You just went potty. I couldn't help but think.

We traded places while the man returned his clay jar to its place of residence and headed for the front of the building. Once I was done, Jesus tossed the water onto the ground and set the basin on the window ledge. Sparkling clean anti-bacterial soap or not; either way, we were ready to eat! I smiled happily as I imagined telling the innkeeper that I wanted an everything omelette with pancakes and a cup of coffee - leaded please.

This 'inn' consisted of one small room with a few tables; complete with several soldiers slugging back cups of wine and acting rather stupid. Fortunately, they appeared to me to be too drunk to notice us; as a few were involved in a wrestling match on the floor behind where they were sitting. They sang and cheered, thumped their table and stomped their feet, while a man who seemed to be the equivalent of a bartender brought us a small picture of wine, two wooden cups and a plate of some sort of jerky. Jesus handed him some coins, which he discreetly tucked into his change purse and returned to the bar; at the beckon of one of the soldiers, who was only marginally interested in another round of drinks. He was too busy cheering the buddy that was kicking the other guy's butt.

A few minutes later, our server returned with two small wooden bowls of vegetable soup. With a cup in His hand "Yaw-daw." Jesus smiled with a gesture to heaven. "Yeah!" I agreed as I raised my cup too. "No better one to toast to than - Abba Father." I paused a minute. "Thank you." I said as we both let out a sigh and took a swig.

Several other patrons entered as we sat and ate, all to eager to challenge one of the soldiers to another match. They laughed and joked and even sang and danced; while I watched with veiled amusement. Roman soldiers that could do the electric slide. I put my head on the table and quietly chuckled.

Another wrestling match was under way, when we finished eating and our server brought a few other items over. There were two bowls and a cup filled with something that looked like olive oil. One of the bowls had leaves in it and the other seeds. I had no idea what they were; but Jesus seemed heartily encouraging me to eat them. While we were both busy snacking; Jesus had snagged some board game from another table. It looked like checkers and He'd giggle at me when ever I'd try to jump His checker. I'd figured out pretty quickly that we were playing two different games; neither of which I was sure we weren't making up our own rules.

About a half hour or so had passed of my munching on these seeds, leaves and drinking this oil when I realized what Jesus's hearty intent was all about; For suddenly, I had to... go. I peered suspiciously at Jesus, who just innocently shrugged; when I realized He'd been feeding me laxatives. Jesus got up from the table, got something else from the proprietor and headed out a side door, motioning for me to follow. Oh no... this wave of dread assailed me. Sure enough, my suspicions were confirmed; through this door was the... rest room.

There were already three soldiers in there; conversing over... what ever Roman soldiers talk about in the bathroom? I stood on the other side of the wall for a moment trying to convince myself that I could do this, but it wasn't working very well. Not that I had much of a choice; I was hesitantly realizing, for it was either this rest room or a far more embarrassing accident. Jesus took my arm and escorted me to the far end of the room, where He just pulled His tunic out of the way and sat down; _(like there was absolutely nothing abnormal about this arrangement)_. Meanwhile I was trying not to have a panic attack!

So that's why these garments have such rather wide bottom openings. It suddenly dawned on me while I sucked in a breath and held it. (And yet another revelation hit me); it actually didn't stink in here. OK, I finally decided I was just not going to think too hard about this, fluffed my tunic out of the way and gingerly sat down. Jesus set a board over the hole between us and dumped something that looked like dominos out of a small bag onto the board. Complete with 'john toys'; how quaint. I thought to myself; trying _**not**_ to process the fact that I was sitting next to eternal God in a very public... rest room. The soldiers across from us were now playing cards when a 6 year old girl came in and sat about 3 holes down from Jesus. She peed pretty quickly and left. I sat for probably another half hour while Jesus kept distracting me with dominos until I was finally... finished.

Two of the soldiers across the way had been replaced by a third who was now playing some sort of version of jacks with the soldier who'd been left behind. (No pun intended.) I recognized it because we'd just been playing the same game. How odd this was: almost as much of a social gathering as ... eating. _In one end and out the other._ I squirmed a bit as Jesus handed me a clean sponge. Hihhh? I glanced hesitantly at Him when He pulled a wooden spiked stick out of a bucket of sand, stabbed the sponge, stuck it in another bucket of water and handed it back to me. Yeah... thanks... I tried not to be to obvious of my mental pondering of how to actually use this thing. Jesus had finished and was knocking the sponge off the stick into the sewer below us; before He stabbed the stick back into the bucket of sand. OK, I sighed one last time as Jesus stood up. I hurried and finished before scurrying out the door after Him.

OK, that was profoundly unnerving, but I do feel pounds lighter.

We reemerged back into the dining area as Jesus thanked the proprietor with another coin, which I was assuming was a tip of some kind. We were headed out the door when someone yelled and I nearly jumped out of my skin. They began to laugh as I cautiously turned around and saw them all sitting there waving; the same four soldiers we'd been in the toilet house with. Well, okay. I guess the joke's on me? I let out a nervous chuckle as I peered over at Jesus. He smiled as He waved back at them and with a simple gesture, escorted me out the doorway.

I looked over my shoulder a few times as we walked away, wondering if anyone would follow us; but nobody did. I finally breathed a sigh of relief when we were out of eyesight and ear shot of the tavern. I guess it really wasn't that bad? After all, I did survive the restroom and though I hated to admit it; I felt better. Tis necessary to be sure you don't 'get plugged' in this climate; as I remembered some unpleasant days in medical after our entire squadron being interrogated on a daily basis by our unit commanders as to 'When was the last time you pooped?' If one confessed to not having gone in 3 days, they'd send us to medical to help us;...eh... with a bottle of saline.

So God, just like Uncle Sam cares about our bowels? I found ironically... comforting; maybe? I chuckled as I watched Jesus who appeared to again be counting streets looking for something. How... normalized, that is? I thought to myself as I wondered about the vast difference between their normal and my normal. Sharing something we assume to privacy, yet made so public was different alright; but I guess this place is... normal? I laughed to myself. All of what we are that I'd spent so much time being ashamed of was actually so ... normal?


	17. Exodus

**Exodus**

We walked down another street, turning one last corner when we passed some stables and Jesus headed for the house. I followed Him up to the door as He knocked a couple of times waiting for the proprietor to answer. A happy face welcomed us in and I stood in the doorway out of the wind, while he and Jesus spent a few minutes discussing something. Soon after, we followed this man down a narrow hall into one of the stalls. We exited another door and around the barn when I finally realized what this place was. We were at the local 'rent a beast'; or at least so far as I could gather?

Maybe not, but anyways - the man was saddling up a camel. How odd, I thought as he led this animal out passed the stalls of the other critters and it knelt down. It was a good-sized creature; though, I was still amazed when after we both got on it - it stood up without much of a problem. I never thought they were all that sturdy; but, I guess you learn something new every day.

The man we got the camel from waved as we headed down yet another street and apparently out of this town too. Where are we going now? I began to wonder as I turned my face from the wind.

After about five minutes into the country side, I could see why we'd taken the camel. We were journeying through a windy pass and the course sand that swept across the road didn't seem to bother this creature as much as it would have bothered us. I'd imagined it to be comparable to sandpaper on the legs and feet; and just the thought of that gave me the wee-bee gee-bee's!

I sat swaying to the camel's gate and tried to get conformable, for I had no idea how long it would be. Horseback rinding always made my legs stiff and this didn't seem to be much different. I leaned back a little trying to get a better sense of balance, when I peered over Jesus's shoulder to see how He was handling this ride. He had His legs pulled up to His chest and His feet in a pair of leather straps that hung on either side of the camel's shoulders. Horse jockey position. I thought to my self as I pulled one foot over my other leg and sat sideways with my back to the wind.

I stayed that way as long as I could with a white-knuckle grip on the saddle trying to keep steady. Even though I was tired, for some reason I was too anxious to relax. I peered over at Jesus who had His head down, using His arms to protect His face from the wind. The camel seemed to know enough to just follow the road and as I sat for a few more minutes, I started to wonder if Jesus was asleep?

Now there's an act of faith. I mumbled to myself in a sarcastic huff as I struggled with my memories and the fears of so long ago. Falling asleep was always something that scared me for I never knew what might happen and unfortunately, did; at least with enough frequency to keep me awake most nights. Vague recollections of my sister kicking and screaming drifted by as I leaned over my own legs and watched what was left of the camel's tracks stretch out behind us. I'm just glad I'm not there any more; was the only thought I could manage to muster.

I let out a sigh as I repositioned myself and looked over at Jesus, who hadn't moved for about ten minutes now. I wondered how He could sleep as I just sat and watched Him? Could He trust me? I started to ponder. Hell, I'm not even sure I trust myself. I shook my head as the nagging fear of turning into some sort of sick, warped pervert began to emerge again.

This fear always hung just below the surface and would come back to haunt me every time I'd change diapers at the group home and now here it was back. Why here and why now and how's this got anything to do with Jesus in the first place? I wondered as I tucked my hands under my arms. What does it take to push someone over the edge into the realm of perpetrator? I questioned, for the thought of re-enacting what had happened to me made me nauseous. I must be loosing my mind. I tried to convince myself, as I turned the other way and watched the road that was wound around the passing hills.

Tears ran down my face as I crunched into a little ball wishing I could just disappear. Was I dealing with some sort of fierce resentment, or a desperate yearning to know He could somehow understand. Now how sick is that? My mind began to race as I wondered if I really believed that Jesus would relate any better after becoming a victim Himself? I sat in shock and disbelief at my own thoughts as I tried to shake them away. And where was this brain of mine going now? I pounded my head in my hands as the next set of thoughts swooped in. Woe unto that person who would cause one of these little ones to stumble - it aint going to be me!

I gasped in a strange sort of combination of horror and relief for something suddenly clicked! Now empathy aside, I knew I certainly didn't want to be the source of anyone's pain and whether or not God understood, didn't seem to matter any more. The fear had mysteriously vanished and how odd it was that happened so quickly? I pondered a moment or two.

I knew the years of psychological torment I'd suffered and I'd never wish that on anybody; none to say pass it on to them! My mind suddenly stopped just long enough for the rest of my thoughts to recede and the word empathy to stick out. There it was standing there all by itself, when I finally realized that was actually the answer! Empathy was the missing link. That's what I had that my brother didn't; which kept me all this time from repeating his _'mistake'_.

Wow! I sat with astonishment as I watched a mental recording of my life float by right before my eyes. I had never abused anybody or hurt another soul with purposeful intensions. I'd only ever been in a few fights; when after being relentlessly taunted, I just blew up. No, instead of taking it out on someone else; I'd just spent most of my life depressed, blaming my woes on some profound defect of who I was.

I felt so absolutely crushed by everything that happened to me. I realized as my thoughts started to drift. I was sure no-one would ever love me, they couldn't because I felt like I just didn't really exist. I was somehow invisible to the world, except t for when they needed someone to dump on. There were times in my life when I wondered if that was my only purpose. Was I just here to suffer?

The memories tossed around in my head a minute or two when the revelation came to me that it was ridiculous to ever think I had been assigned to the lot of pointless existence. Yes, I do suppose we all suffer but suffering is not meant to be all of who we are, any of us! I realized as I picked my head up and looked over at Jesus. Yes, even You had a greater purpose than just the role of suffering servant. You would have never made it out of the grave Sunday morning if You didn't. I sighed as I now dared to actually look at Him.

He shifted a little, rubbing His face on His sleeve before He settled back down again. He didn't really seem to be asleep any more, but neither was He really awake. I noticed as I watched His brown and yellow striped head piece ripple in the now dying winds. His brief encounter with the woken world had dislodged the corded halo that held this striped cloth to His head. The more He moved, the more His headpiece released it's grasp and hints of hair began to escape. I sat and observed for a few minutes as the color of His hair seemed to change with the variances of shining bright and receding sunlight. You have very typical human hair. I caught myself thinking as I peered up into the sky.

How very ordinary every thing seemed, I suddenly realized. Well, as ordinary as me traveling back through time two thousand years and riding through Israel on the back of a camel behind Jesus Christ could ever be! I let out a guarded chuckle. So many questions still in my head and sorrows still in my soul. Deep down inside, I could tell I just wanted to cry but couldn't.

I was then that a tiny idea crept into my mind. Maybe I should just simply wake Jesus up and _ask_ Him? It suggested. What a novel idea that would be! I snickered at my goads as they chased this timid thought away. Oh how my own sarcasm was killing me! I finally sighed as I could admit that it probably was a good idea; but for some reason, the notion of waking Him still terrified me.

Yes, I was passed the anger or jealousy I had at His simple faith that said I trust My Father to restrain you; for now I realized that God had been the one who'd stopped me from really hurting anyone in the first place. Oh there were plenty of mistakes I've made in the course of my quarter century of existence on this planet and some of them were quite serious, but none of those transgressions were ever out of deliberated malice. I started to see as I marveled at how things had turned out the way they had.

I'd had a sensitive heart to my own pain, which prevented my conscience from becoming seared and sending me down the road of destruction of myself, as well as any others I would have taken with me. Even during the war, the providence of God prevented me from having to kill someone, although I knew I could! I paused a minute as I had to sit and think about that one a while. After all these years, I never realized what a gift that pain was.

As the camel's trot kept ticking by our hours; I sat trying to sort through it all, when I finally came to the conclusion that it was not that I feared Jesus reaction to being woken up as much as exposing my thoughts to Him. I know that sounds silly. I told myself for I always knew you can't hide from God in the first place; but I was also coming to a new revelation of sorts.

I sat with my thoughts when it finally dawned on me. Thoughts are just thoughts. They're not actions and they don't mean anything _really_ , unless you act on them. A vague recollection of some verse in Genesis about sin crouching at Cain's door drifted through my mind. How profoundly simple that is! And thoughts won't become actions unless you let them live rent free in your head! Ultimately the basic reason Cain killed Able. He let the hurt, anger and jealousy grow into hatred, of both his brother and ultimately God. It all reigned rent free in his head! If I don't do that; I'll be OK. Eventually, I knew deep down inside God was going to see to it that this got fixed somehow. I had no idea when or how; but I knew it was going to get fixed. I understood God well enough to at least know that. I let out a sigh with some new sense of relief.

I pulled my legs up as close to me as I could and tried to rest my chin on my knees, for I was ready to fall asleep too; when instead, I nearly fell off our furry friend. Half amused and half annoyed, I wiggled back into the saddle when I started to think about all the things I'd finished thinking about earlier and a new sense of gratitude slowly started to fill my soul. Gratitude that was honest and deeply felt; even though for some reason, still touched by hardship.

I smiled with bittersweetness as I thought of what an honor it is to call God my Father and how nice it would be if I totally trusted Him; something I wasn't doing well with lately. I let out a sigh. Yes, I could see how this Father had worked many miracles in my life and some of those though a human father who had failed miserably in many ways. Yeah, dad had done his best, I guess. I tried to comfort myself as I thought of the one day he'd come home from work with that booklet, but something else just wasn't right and I could never figure out what?

The booklet dad had brought home was about protecting your family from crime. He'd gotten it out from the library; which this revelation suddenly struck me because dad wasn't really a library type of guy. Yet he'd taken the time, thought and intent to go search this book out because... he was worried about me. In all the crap that he felt he had absolutely no control over; he wanted to ... arm me.

So, he sat with me in the living room that afternoon and read the whole thing. I remember when he got to a certain page that bore the title _Child Molester_ ; I asked him about that. He answered my inquiry by asking if I knew what rape was? I only nodded and he quickly threw out a statement of how it was the same thing, except they do it to kids.

He went on to read the rest of the 'to do's' and 'not to do's', when I asked him what his reaction would be if that had ever happened to any of us? He said he'd probably kill the guy; then he suddenly stopped, looked at me and asked if it already had? Of course I said no and dad didn't question it any further, even though he kept looking at me like he didn't quite believe me.

At the end of this discussion he gave me specific instructions that if anyone ever approached me; I had his permission to scream as loud and long as I could until some other adult came. So the the next time my brother got any ideas, I told him to leave me alone. When he thought to try and force me; I threatened to bite him and then scream. He never did it again.

So that was dad's contribution. I let out a sigh as I was still watching the sky for something I wasn't even sure of. The question of where my other Father was at the time had never been an issue, as I thought of how He had already answered me. He was the one who gave me the courage to find my voice (where dad gave me his permission) and once I started screaming; metaphorically speaking, I haven't stopped yet. Why, seemed to be the only question left. In all this time, I'd never figured out why this had happened to me in the first place.


	18. The Prophet, The Prostitute and the Girl

**The Prophet, The Prostitute and the Girl from Where?**

My mind jumped the time warp again back to (of all ironic things) my brother and sister's confirmation Sunday. It was the first time I'd ever been to church (other than my cousin's wedding) and all I remembered (besides the preacher playing the guitar) was when he announced "Let us pray..." I stared at my feet and said: Well God, I don't really know what to say? I've never done this before. I'm not even sure You hear me?

I don't remember if I said anything else, or just listened to what the preacher was reciting; but I do recall that shortly afterwards, the sun came out and shined on me through one of the tall skinny windows. I watched the dust particles as they permiated the bright warm light and I turned around to see if the sun was shining on any other members of my family. At the moment it seemed odd to me that it wasn't; though looking back on it now, at least from a human vanish point I can see why. I was the one on the very end of the pew and the angle of the sun was such that I was in the light's path.

Either way, I found (and still do) the irony of it intriguing, as well as kind of frightening. At the time, I wondered if I might be special enough to be noticed? (Me and the two old ladies several pews away who were also sitting in the sun.) Up to today it seems to be an accurate indicator as to the spiritual condition of the rest of my family - sitting in darkness. But looking toward the future - I wonder if any of them will ever come to see the light?

Interestingly enough, somewhere in this time frame the abuse actually stopped. I am sure of this because of something I had discovered just before my senior graduation. I was 18 years old and could request to look at my school records without my parents permission. I knew I was in the first grade when these incidents started happening, but for the longest time, I couldn't remember when they ended? Upon reviewing my grades, noticed a drastic drop in them that began the second half of the 1st grade and mysteriously ended by the last quarter of 4th grade. I also remember what I had on in church that day - a purple top with a purple plaid skirt; which I had gotten for Christmas when I was in the 4th grade.

Oh how things work out in the details of our lives. I thought to myself while the tears finally found their way to the surface and I started to cry. It had been some time and I guess I didn't realize how long. As I was busy wiping my face, I noticed Jesus was now sitting up, wide awake, turned around and looking at me. I peered back at Him wondering how long He'd been watching this? My entire life I guess. My own voice answered as I took another deep breath. He didn't do anything, but let out a little sigh and eventually a smile. I let out one last sigh, wiped my face again and smiled back. He looked like He wanted to say something, but never did.

He seemed content with the placidness of the moment, let out a happy little giggle and just turned around again. I guess it's all right with me too. I decided as I leaned forward and rested my forehead on His shoulder. He started to laugh when I repeated the gesture a few times, as if to pound what ever the proverbial lesson is into my brain. He took a deep breath, glanced back at me and said something; to which I only mumbled "Yeah." This seemed to catch Him in mid-sentence, when He suddenly stopped and took another deep breath; this time He launched into a song.

Wow. I nearly began to cry again as I instinctively leaned against His back and fished one hand through the arm hole of His cloak, just to have something to hang on to. He didn't seem to mind, so I just sat there listening to Him. I could hear His heart beating, feel His breathing and the reverberation of His voice through His body into my soul. I closed my eyes and felt myself wanting to drift off to sleep.

I started to smile as I searched my memory for which ever passage it was that says God sings! I had no idea where it was in the Bible, but I knew it was in one of the psalms. Either way, I realized there had been many times on this curious odyssey that I'd wished I'd had a Bible stuck in my pocket, so I could whip it out and somehow check for the accuracy of my experiences. I don't know, maybe it didn't matter anyways because most of the time, I only half understood what I was reading in the first place: and that was even in English. I chuckled to myself as I tried to tune into Jesus's voice. What was He singing about? I started to wonder as I just closed my eyes and listened. What does God sing about? The question continued to pop up. What fills Him with enough joy to burst into song? I was pondering when I suddenly recognize something.

"E'ssa-'- en-ay', El-he' harim," "Hey! I know that song!" I interrupted as I sat up and He continued to sing. "Me'-a-yin ya'-'-bo ez'-'-r-'i," "Ez'-'-r-'i ma'-yim A'do-ni'." I tried to join in, though I didn't know the Hebrew well enough to chant accurately. "O-seh sha'may-'-im va' a'-'-retz." I mumbled along to the music. "El ya'-ten la'mo tran'n le'-'-cha." El ya'num-shom rec'-ah," The chant and voice intonation was almost the same as I remembered off a Michael Card CD - odd as that seemed to me. "Hi-ne' lo ya'-num, va' lo-e'-'-shan." I smiled as I could hear Jesus giggling at my pronunciation. "Sho-me'-ar Yis-ri-al."

"I lift up my eyes unto the hills; from whence shall come my help." I repeated in English. "My help is from the Lord God; Maker of heaven and Earth." I let out another little laugh at the irony of my sitting here singing this. "He will not give to the moving of your foot; nor shall slumber He who keeps thee. Behold He'll not slumber, nor shall He sleep. He who keeps - Israel." I smiled as Jesus went on to recite this psalm once more; though this time in Aramaic. I can do it in sign language! I said to myself as I thought of how this chant had miraculously endured through nearly two millennia. I guess God is never changing! I chuckled as I realized... again.

I felt comforted by this common thread of music, as I thought of all the things in the Scripture that evidentially are still the same yesterday, today and forever! How funny it is we are linked through time by God Himself! I found myself rejoicing as for the first time I felt like I actually fit into history. It's nice to feel like you belong somewhere. I realized as I took in a deep breath of fresh air and watched Jesus who was not adjusting His clothing.

He pulled His headpiece off and shook the sand out of it, as I sat quietly observing what He was doing. I noticed the breezes working their way through His hair, as it now looked black to me in this late sun. Maybe it's because of the residual of oil from the night before? I'd noticed, that even after a 'mud washing' the anointing oil just wasn't going to come out that easily. I noted, as it had quite well soaked into His scalp. He turned around briefly when I realized He'd caught me examining the back of His head for I had a few locks of hair between my fingers. I quickly let go and shyly shrugged as He went on to pull His arms out of His cloak. He didn't seem to mind, while I sat there trying hard to restrain myself. I really wanted to hug Him but wasn't sure if I should.

For several moments, I gazed at the few small clouds sparsely scattered around as I absorbed the warm sunlight before I realized something. I was actually happy for a change; a feeling it seemed I rarely felt in years and I started to worry that maybe this was just another dream? I didn't want it to be and if it was, I'd hoped I would never wake up. I like it here. I reluctantly admitted, as I instinctively picked up my hand and put it on Jesus's shoulder. You seem real enough. I thought as I leaned forward and rested my forehead on the back of my hand. Humm, and You smell good too. I chuckled to myself for I noticed the spikenard all the more as I took a deep breath and quietly sat; my head now sliding down my arm.

I wanted to laugh and I wanted to cry. Another nap would be nice too, as well as a cold lake to jump in. No matter how long I'm here, I don't think I'll ever get used to the weather. Again, I found myself hoping I would eventually be able to go home; just not right now, I guess. I chuckled to myself.

I let out one long sigh and sat quiet for several more minutes wondering what I should do? What if I'm stuck here? I'd have an awful lot too learn. I pondered as I picked my head up again and stared at the sky. Well, at least that's still the same. I reassured myself, that; even though this didn't look or feel like the same planet I came from, it indeed was. And You're not even going to be here much longer either. I uttered silently as I turned back toward Jesus, who was now leaning on one hand staring aimlessly at the hills before us.

Here we were, the two of us literally from our own worlds, evidently caught in thoughts about them. I wondered if He missed heaven kind'a like I missed the twentieth century? I guess there's really no comparison there. I started to chuckle as He peered over His shoulder at me sitting there giggling like an idiot. "Sorry." I shrugged for lack of having any better answer. I really felt stupid, but I couldn't stop laughing. He only let out a little chuckle and with a shake of the head, turned around again.

Boy, this was sure turning into one awfully long ride. I said to myself as I let out one more long sigh and finally stopped giggling. Are we even close to there yet - Papa Smurf? I snickered one last time as I found my mind wandering; when I noticed we'd turned down a small narrow path and were headed for a house that wasn't too far off in the distance. I was relieved at the prospect of finally getting off this beast and being able to walk around a little bit. My legs were cramped, my back was sore and my arms ached - not to mention my butt. That had problems all it's own, I noticed when we finally came to a stop and I tried to get down.

The camel kneeled and I sort of slid off onto the ground like a piece of wet toast. My legs felt like rubber as I laid there in the grass thinking to myself - well that wasn't very graceful now was it? I could hear the people talking and giggling as someone came over to see if I was alright? It took about ten minutes before I got enough feeling back in my legs to attempt to get to my feet. I was working on shaking out all the kinks, when I noticed this ride had also left Jesus with His own set of aches and pains; although He was at least standing. After walking circles around the yard for the last ten minutes, He still waddled kind of like the one very pregnant woman He had followed into the house.

With some assistance, I finally got up and headed inside myself. There were some faces I recognized from the night before and some new ones. No where in this part of the Scripture had I remember reading about a pregnant woman, yet here she was simultaneously laying baked fish fillets out on trays and feeding her baby. Two fillets for the dinner, one for junior: three pieces of fruit for the guests, one for junior - and so on.

Either way, she seemed to be enjoying herself as she and Martha bantered back and forth about the food and how much if it she was consuming. Every time she'd sneak a snack, Martha would swat her hand ad they'd both giggle at each other. Well, I guess this place isn't so foreign after all? I thought to myself. Centuries later, some things remain the same: pregnant women still eat everything sight.

I walked around a few more minutes still trying to get my land legs when I happened upon another familiar face standing in the loft talking to someone. It was Mary Magdalene. She was next to the railing talking to another person, who I could not see. She wasn't paying attention and curiosity got the best of me; so I climbed the ladder, partially to say hello and partially because I was nosy.

I got about three quarters of the way up when I stopped and just sort of stared in amazement. The person she was talking to was sitting on a sleeping mat against the far wall. He had a knife in one hand and part of a small log in the other, with a neat little pile of wood chips on the floor - and tears streaming down His face. It was Jesus, who evidentially had some frustrations He was venting on this piece of wood, for He'd take a couple of swipes at it; then wipe His face. He glanced over, let out a couple of sobs and took a deep breath. Mary waved when she noticed me, as Jesus went on talking.

Neither of them seemed to mind that I was standing there; so that's what I did. I was totally dumbfounded by what I was witnessing, for although Mary seemed concerned at Jesus's obvious distress, she wasn't overly emotional about it. She listened attentively and seemed to ask Him a question or two. He only shook His head no as He tucked a few small carving tools into a leather pouch, rolled it up and handed it to her, along with the piece of wood. He only said a few more words before He laid down facing the wall and wadded a blanket up under His head. She let out a sigh, walked over and put her hand on His shoulder. With a few more words and one last sigh, she patted His arm and left Him be.

When she came walking toward the ladder where I was standing, I looked up at her sort of confused. "What's wrong with Him?" I mumbled in English. Mary's only response was a... 'language barrier' shrug; as she indicated she wanted to get by me. I climbed up the last few steps and sat on the floor with my feet hanging through the opening, as she descended to the first level. She left the carving tools and block of wood on the end of one of the tables, as she headed off in the direction of the kitchen.

I only sat and wondered as I stared at my feet and listened to the occasional sniffle that came from the other side of the loft. That was really weird? I said to myself as I thought about how Mary reacted to Jesus. Here all these centuries later, this notion had been made that she, as some alleged prostitute, had some sort of fatal attraction to Him and by this encounter I'd just witnessed; you'd never have guessed that? She responded more like she was talking to her own brother than some unrequited lover.

How very interesting that is! I scratched my head as I glanced back over my shoulder at Jesus who's sniffles had now subsided. Seems like He's cried Himself to sleep. I concluded as I got up to head down the ladder myself; thinking how we in the twentieth century had obviously gotten it wrong ...again! Brings me to another question? I started to ponder. Who really was the 'prostitute' in the Scriptures; the chick who cried all over Jesus's feet? I made a funny face and shook my head. When ever I'd read that passage in the gospels; it was one I never quite 'got'.

I was about to head down the steps, when something about Jesus suddenly caught my attention. If He was actually asleep, He was breathing rather erratically? I inched over a few steps to see if I could figure out what was going on? Eli, Eli, lama sabach' thani; kept running through my head; as I preceived this was all connected, although I knew well enough to never claim that I actually understood any of how it could be.

Suddenly Jesus bolted strait into a sitting position, gasping for breath; with a glazed look in His eyes, He was staring blankly at the wall in front of Him. PTSD nightmare / panic attack was the first thought that came to mind; because that's exactly what it looked like. I cautiously leaned over a bit to try and determine if He was actually awake, when it dawned on me that the problem was probably that He'd been awake all this time? Is that why You seem so sleepy, because right now You can't? I watched Him a bit, not sure if I should try to get His attention when He peered up at me.

The 'typical' symptoms of what looked like a panic attack progressed predictably as Jesus turned red, grabbed at His chest, started sweating profusely, hyperventilated and finally keeled over from being dizzy. He didn't cry, didn't attempt to talk, but only made this rather eerie whining sound. He was beginning to have a bit of a purple tinge and I wondered if He was eventually just going to pass out? I'd taken enough biology classes to know though, that if that happened; His autonomic nervous system would just take over and 'reset'. But also, I knew enough history to confidently conclude that since You're going to be crucified in 2 days; You're not having a heart attack!

Apparently though, the sound He was making brought a few others running up the ladder to see what was going on. John was quietly standing next to me observing; while Peter and James seemed to be in a bit of panicked consternation; both looking at me like: what'd you do to him?

Peter appeared to be getting agitated, when I simply popped out with the first thing that came to mind and started... to sing:

 **Chosen to serve as the sacrificed lamb, the binder of all the earth's wounds,**

 **Called the deliverer, chief cornerstone, slain and then buried, but He rose from the tomb.**

 **Slain and than buried but He rose from the tomb.**

 _Peter and James just stared at me like I'd absolutely lost my mind._

 **He is, He is the ancient of days, giver of freedom for the price that He paid.**

 **He is, He is the ancient of days, exposing the enemy's great masquerade, the giver of life, He is the ancient of days.**

 _I could feel someone take hold of my shoulders and shake me a bit as I continued into the next verse._

 **Courageous Redeemer who's life giving blood, is the ransom for wayward man's soul.**

 **Covenant messenger, heir of all things, shepherd and guardian, guardian of souls.**

 **Shepherd and gardian, guardian of souls.**

Jesus stood between John and I, holding Himself up by an arm around each of our shoulders. He spent a few more minutes catching His breath and wiped His face a few times when He too began to sing. I stopped dead cold and looked at Jesus, for though He was singing in Aramaic; I recognized the tune:

 **When others' see with earthly eyes, just what they want to see, you will see the things that never die.**

 **You will know and recognize, by simple child like faith, the priceless truth others' will deny.**

 **When others' say I'm just a man, who liked to dream his dreams, when others' call a miracle a myth.**

 **You listen for eternity in moments as they pass, and see with spirit eyes what other's miss.**

 _I suddenly joined in in English._

 **Upon this rock, I'll build my kingdom and on this rock, forever and ever it will stand.**

 **And all the powers of hell itself, will never more prevail against it, for Satan's thrones are built on sinking sand.**

 _Peter and James were just staring at the two of us, while John was over on the other side of Jesus giggling. [It's the same song...] Peter mumbled._

 **Upon this rock, I'll build my kingdom and on this rock, for ever and ever it will stand.**

 **Upon this rock of revelation, I'll build a strong and mighty nation, and it shall stand the storms of time, upon this rock.**

I stoped and looked at Jesus. "You can sing Sandi Patti in Aramaic?"

Jesus only peered back at me with somewhat of a perplexed expression: Is that what that was?

I started to laugh too.

Peter and James seemed to be kibitzing with each other over what just happened, when Jesus let out one last sigh and collapsed back onto His sleeping mat. John turned to see if He was OK. Jesus only lay there; staring strait up at John with His hands out to His sides, palms up. It's the 'Messiah position'. I started to giggle. We get plenty of pictures of You looking like that; except usually You're not horizontal.

Jesus said a couple more words to John before He rolled over and faced the wall again. He seemed in a better mood, and I hoped at this point He could actually fall asleep. I sighed as I watched John get on the floor and hug Him. John got up and followed me to the ladder as Peter and James were exchanging shrugs.

[Come on.] John called to them as they followed us down stairs.

I wandered aimlessly around the house helping where I could; though it became painfully evident that I didn't know the first (or the last ) thing about first century life. Martha tried to offer me some small tasks to do, before she realized I was probably of the most use just washing dishes. Yes, at least we still do that in the twentieth century. I chuckled to myself as I watched them work around me and my wash basin. Two of the other women had gone outside when the pregnant momma came in. I still didn't know who she was, but at this point I'd gathered that her name was Deborah.

[So how are you feeling?]

[Queasy.]

[Oh honey, it won't be long now. I promise.]

[Well, all I'm going to say is that I hope the next pregnancy is easier, or we may be having a really small family.]

[Oh, my second child was a grand sweet. He was such an easy baby. My daughter... Oh... good Lord! You could hear that girl scream the next town over.]

[Sort of like your sister.]

[Oh, I really shouldn't have said that.]

[Go find another pair of feet to cry on. Maybe it'll work this time.]

[I shouldn't have said that either.]

Deborah giggled while Martha is just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

[Is that why she was mad at you last night?]

[Yes.]

[What about Jesus?]

[She was mad at him for not telling me to shut up - I think.]

[You're not Simon Peter; so he wouldn't be telling you to shut up.]

[Oh, come on; Pete gets a bad rap. He really is a sweet guy though.]

[For a cave dweller.]

[Oh shut up.]

They giggled some more.

[So was that Simon the Pharisee's real intent? That is so... warped.]

[You have no idea how warped that man is.]

[Isn't he related to you?]

[Not if I won't admit it.]

[Can't believe he actually did that to Mary. That is so disgusting.]

[Like I said, you have no idea.]

[Than the teacher's reaction. Well guess what Simon, the sins she has committed will be forgiven; yours on the other hand...]

[Classic true Prophet's reaction! He's one pretty smart ... creature! Despite all their accusations of insanity. Crazy?... Like a fox maybe!]

[So, basically what happened was Mary got there and fell apart? She couldn't do what Simon had sent her to do?]

[Nope! Which... er... frankly surprised me; since she was an any one, any where, any time, any place, any... _**thing**_ \- Eh... kind of gal; ya know? And that truly was the power of the Almighty if she could never get past his feet.]

Both Martha and Deborah laughed.

[Yeah, Lazarus said; that's how he knew Jesus was the real deal. It wasn't the bread and fish, healing the sick or raising the dead. It was ya could stop my degenerate, 'oh I'm so gorgeous you can't resist', arrogant, snotty and... absolutely batty sister from fondling any more than your toes.]

[And without slapping her! Truly was an act of God.]

Martha nodded knowingly.

[Yes, and then Lazarus told me the comment about the one of the lessor sin also being forgiven. Who is this that even forgives sin? Lazarus got up and left after that!]

[Yeah, he came strait to my house and told me what happened. **"He really is the Messiah!"** I thought Lazarus was going to bug strait out of his mind right then and there.]

Deborah's demeanor sombered a bit.

[So what about Simon? Do you think he really wants to kill Lazarus?]

[Oh, you bet; and Jesus more! You have no idea. Remember those people Pilate killed in the temple?]

[Yeah, and the ones the pillar of Shilom fell on?]

[Yes, they were all connected. Simon is part of that whole thing; as well as those two little Greek kids they found in the well.]

[I thought that was a rumor?]

[No that really happened. That's why Pilate sent the soldiers into the temple. All those little clay pots were full of blood. Well guess what? Now _**your**_ blood can be part of _**your own**_ sacrifice! Bit of poetic justice executed there by 'evil Rome'; maybe? You have no idea though. These people are sick!]

Martha paused a moment. [I'm frankly a little scared; but I will trust in the Lord to protect us.]

Deborah grew quiet.

[The teacher keeps saying they are going to kill him. Do you think he's right?]

[Hey, I believe him. They're at least going to try. I don't know what's going to happen; but they are at least going to try. I'd bet on that one!]

[He talks about raising up the temple in 3 days. What do you suppose that means?]

[I have no idea. I'll admit it; I aint got the foggiest clue what he means by that!]

Deborah glanced over at me, as I'm haplessly trying to figure out how to open a pomegranate.

[What about this girl? Where'd she come from?]

[All he said was: 'a far away country' and that she doesn't understand our language.]

[She's kind of weird.]

[Yeah, well he seems intent on protecting her.]

[But she does not know the Torah, since he'd left her with Romans and she ate their food.]

[And dressed her like a Jew] Martha laughs. [But who am I to question. I just do what he tells me to.]


	19. Judas my Brother

**Judas my Brother**

Evening was falling, when John, Philip and Peter appeared looking for something to munch on. They scarfed the rest of the one tray our lady who was eating for two had started, before they absconded with a plate of what looked like some sort of vegetable rolled up in grape leaves.

I excused myself a minute to go look for the 'little girls room' when I saw Mary returning with a small round wooden shovel, a short handled rake and a small pail which she'd emptied before coming across the yard. She stopped a moment, looked at me and smiled before she poured a bit of water into the pail and handed me the instruments. It was then that I realized, they didn't _have_ a 'little girls room'. O.K. I smiled politely as I took the implements from her and walked across the yard into the tall weeds on the other side of a few trees. As I waded through the grass, I observed the many little racked over patches on the ground, all the while thinking to myself; this is really gross.

I kept walking until I almost reached the next grove of bushes before I found some place to go. I started to feel a little paranoid wondering if I was going in the wrong place, or maybe someone would see me, or all what ever all other thoughts you think of while waiting on your bowels... again.

With no toilet paper, I peered into the little pail of water. "Ehh... no!" I objected as I began to look around me. Not sure of the plants, I did my best hoping and praying that the leaves I'd chosen weren't their equivalent of poison oak or something of the like. How embarrassing that would be! I shuddered as I started to scoop the dirt back into my potty, endeavoring greatly not to think about attempting to explain to Jesus how I needed to be healed from such a nasty rash that I'd managed to give myself; but than again, it's not Syphilis. I realized as I started to ponder what other nasty rashes people may have come to Him with? And you know He healed anyone who asked; I heard my own voice telling me. Even though some of them walked away and did it again. How scary is that! I sighed.

I stood up and looked down at the giant hole I'd just back filled. Well, maybe it didn't really need to be _**that**_ deep. I said to myself, as I noticed I'd nearly dug out my own personal outhouse. Oh well, I nervously shrugged as I raked it over and stomped on it a few times. Well, I guess that wasn't so bad after all. I realized as I looked around and headed back to the house where someone else was evidentially waiting for the shovel, rake and pail. It was the poor pregnant woman. Well, here's your bathroom key. I chuckled to myself as I handed them off to her. Interesting system of doing things. I observed as this next patron scampered off into the bushes. I rather like the idea of having an actual toilet; just not one I share with 20 other people at the same time. I chuckled to myself as I rinsed my hands, rubbed them with some sand and rinsed them again before going back into the house.

It was almost dark, I suddenly realized as I returned to my post at the wash basin. I looked for some dishes, but they evidentially were either all clean, or still in service some where; so I followed a few of the other ladies into the next room where dinner was already started. It was rather quiet while everyone was eating and I started to look around to see who was here. I counted twelve apostles and Jesus (who'd evidentially emerged from the loft for supper); but only a few other faces. All the rest of (the five of) us were women and girls, except for Lazarus and almost half a dozen or so children; who I had no idea to whom they belonged?

I looked around at our hand full of ankle biters, as I started to compare faces to see if I could identify their respective parent(s). Since it was obvious that none of these little darlin's were mine; the only four alternatives for mothers were: the sisters (Mary and Martha), the other Mary (Magdalene) and our very pregnant friend Deborah, who didn't seem to be feeling well.

I examined the other women as closely as I could (without being rude) but the only match I was sure of was the young lady who must have been about 15 or 16. (She was the one who'd 'mud pied' Jesus in the river earlier.) She was a dead ringer for her mother Mary Magdalene, except for her complexion; which was about five shades darker. She was obviously a racially mixed child; who's father I guessed was from either India or Pakistan. She had the brown skin, very soft hair and delicate features I'd seen on the people from that area back in my on century. Oh well, so much for what all those supposed 'secrete socities' say; she definitely didn't get that beauty (at least not genetically) from Jesus!

I let out a little snicker as I continued to search for clues in the faces around the room. What about fathers? I wondered as my attention turned to the men. There were some possibilities, although I could only identify one or two children who I thought might have both parents present. My anthropological study ended about a half hour or so later when our mommy to be, Lazarus, Mary and two of the children left early on account of a bit of very late evening 'morning' sickness. The four remaining kiddies (along with our teenage beauty queen) were the same four children I'd seen leave the night before with Martha. Well, I guess that sorta solves that riddle. I chuckled to myself as I started to wonder if our 'soon to be bearing a bundle of joy' one was Lazarus's wife? His sister Mary, didn't seem to me to have had any children; so maybe those other two were Lazarus's from a now deceased wife...? Or maybe they were someone else's kids altogether, since they didn't look like anyone in that particular family? The one boy, who was probably about 12 years old, looked kind of like Simon Peter.

It was maybe only a half hour or so that had passed, when all us ladies exited to the kitchen to commence clean up and I excused myself for another potty break. I went outside into the night, surprised at how pitch black everything looked. Was it really this dark out, or is it just my imagination? I wondered as I stopped in the grass to relieve myself. The flickering lamps in the back window of the room we occupied, gave the house a welcoming light in this coal back night. I wanted to hurry as fast as I could, so as to get back into the safety of the walls I had just left, when something suddenly caught my attention.

The curtains off the side window had been drawn when I noticed one of them moved. I could see a few tiny rays seeping into the darkness, when my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to investigate the goings on in the front room. All the girls had made it known to me that none of us were to go back in there 'until father notice'. This was upon the request of one of the men; I'd soon learned, but why had we all be shuffled out anyways? I wondered as I crept up to the side of the house to check it out.

As I approached, I could see Peter and someone else sitting against the front wall. A lamp that had been placed on the table next to them gave their faces an almost angelic golden glow. What ever was happening, they were absorbed in it; but wearing expressions of sad sort of wonderment as their eyes followed whom ever, or what ever was moving about in front of them.

When I was sure they wouldn't notice me, I turned my head and peered into the window. The curtain ruffled in the breeze as I leaned the further over to see the people who were sitting across the floor. Philip, Andrew and John were against the opposite wall and so was part of someone else, who I could see their shoulder and arm, but not their face. I peeked around the now still curtain to one last figure who had just stood up. His back was to me and I noticed he was clothed only in a towel with a a wash basin in his hands. It was then that something oddly familiar about this scene struck me.

I know what's going on here! My thoughts suddenly announced, leaving the rest of me confused; for we did not just eat the Passover and this is not an upper room? I scratched my head as I glanced around at all the men sitting on the floor, some staring at each other, while one in particular (Peter) was occupied with nervously picking at his now clean feet.

Who was next? I wondered as I peered one last time passed the curtain, only to see that evidently no-one was, for their foot washer was now standing naked at the dark side fo the room picking through a pile of clothes that lay on the table waiting for Him. I quickly took one last glance at the apostles, none of which were paying any attention to Jesus, who was now at least dressed enough to not embarrass _**me**_.

I watched Him a while as He struggled with the last few articles of clothing. He looked almost too tired to want to put them back on. Everything seemed more and more difficult for Him as each hour passed and I puzzled over why this was? Three days and three nights in the heart of the earth and it sure ... _**as hell**_ , is dark out here! I shuddered at the cold oppressiveness as I rubbed my face and stepped away from the window.

I sunk down to the ground, leaning against the wall of the house when I realized how warm the ground still seemed. Was that really from the day's previous absorption of solar rays, or is this something else? I contemplated as it didn't seem quite 'natural' for the ground to feel so... hot? Was earth on fire just below the surface as hell was preparing to swallow us all? A planet in revolt against the very one's it was designed to support; but can I blame it? The thoughts floated by as I sat staring off into the distance; rodents skittered, owls hooted and the little conies screamed their death cries as snakes, coyotes and birds of prey hunted them down.

The end is really coming. The revelation suddenly hit me as 'woe unto them that desire the Day of the Lord; for what end is it for you? The Day of the Lord is darkness and not light.' ran through my mind. If the judgement for merely the sins of the elect was this dark; how much worse will the literal last day be? Maybe I'd rather stay in the first century? I started to ponder.

I pulled myself to my feet as I stared into the black sky when I suddenly realized; I feel... condemned. Condemned yes, but not the self flagellation condemnation I'd punished myself with for decades. No this was different. Eternal wrath was bearing down on the entirety of all creation and I could only imagine that it wasn't just me feeling it. 'For then shall be great tribulation, such as was not since the beginning of the world, to this time, nor ever shall be. And except those days should be shortened, there would no flesh be saved...' God's wrath is real, it is here and all I knew, is that it was like a black hole trying to suck me in! I began to cry again as I wondered how many tears can someone shed before they drown in their own sorrow?

From that point, I went into a panic attack myself; as memories of my just standing there watching Jesus struggling to breath filtered through my mind. But I can't help You! I knew. Nothing I could do was going to stop the cup of His indignation from being poured out; even if I was willing to be lost for all of eternity, just so I didn't have to witness this? But I don't want that either! I sucked in one deep breath as I stood up and forced myself to look into the window one last time.

Jesus had plopped down on a cushion behind the the dinner table with His forehead in His arms. The half a dozen or more disciples who were near by, gathered around with looks of confused befuddlement as John took the seat next to Jesus. The remainder just seemed to be aimlessly... shuffling.

After a few sighs and tears, Jesus finally sat up again and turned toward John, who was waiting with outstretched arms for his hug to be returned. Jesus rested His chin on the top of John's head as John attempted to comfort his sorrowing... Lord. What a striking contrast that is! I thought as I remembered the previous day of Jesus sobbing as He collapsed in the road from the weight of agony He bore. God doesn't _**need**_ any of us and... He doesn't _**have to**_ do this! I sucked in my anxious consternation as another panic attack was creeping up on me.

Jesus began to speak. He'd only said a few words when this small group all paused and looked at each other. Simon Peter (who'd snuck in by the wall next to Mathew and Philip) discreetly patted John on the arm. John leaned back a little with an ear toward Peter as one exhausted Jesus rested His head on John's shoulder and began to cry. A few words whispered back and forth between John and Peter, when John finally said something to Jesus.

Jesus sat up with His head against the wall and peered at His two students; as if He was somehow searching for something? In a gesture of tenderness that took me a bit by surprise, John wiped the tears off Jesus's face with his cloak sleeve. They looked at each other a minute before John leaned over and kissed Him. A half laugh and half cry escape from Jesus as He seemed to whisper an answer to what ever the question was that begged a response.

Those of the rest of (us) just standing by; (some only half paying attention at this point) simply watched as Jesus picked up one of the very last supper dishes almost in prophetic response to something that was about to happen.

Just then, coming out of the other room and toward the small crowd was Judas. He posed a question as he looked around, while Jesus stood up with the bowl and the very bitter end of leftover bread, that seemed to have been waiting for it's yet to be determined place in history. Jesus mopped up the last contents of the bowl and handed the bread to Judas when it finally dawned on me what was really happening.

I let out a gasp as I watched Jesus and Judas in their brief interaction. Judas only stood there a minute with the bread in his hand before he gestured what looked like a 'thank you' and smiled before he popped it into his mouth. Peter and John stood like statues, as Judas strolled away while Jesus only quietly watched him leave.

I can't believe this! I said to myself as I impulsively jumped up and ran around to the front stoop to meet Judas when he came outside. "How could you do this?" I asked the thick dark night air as I looked around for him. "Where'd you go you little weasel?" I mumbled as I searched up and down the front yard and ran around the side of the the house. I stopped short a minute, taken back by the big black trees that stretched out menacingly into the windy silence, as if to grab me. "How can you just walk off with someone's life like that?" I questioned as I turned around and around a few times in a state of panicked confusion. "How could you do that?" I asked the darkness.

I stood for several very very long minutes lost in a fog of disbelief. The tears came flooding out again as I quietly sat on the ground. I was busy collecting myself to go back in the house, when I was confronted by a voice. I suddenly looked up to see a figure hovering over me with his arms folded in a condescending glare, spewing angry whispers at me that I couldn't understand. "And who the fuck are you? " I mumbled as I cautiously stood up. He reached out with a quick hand and slapped me so hard he knocked me down, before I realized who I was staring at. It was Judas!

Something in me suddenly snapped as a screech of rage erupted and I lunged strait up at him. His smug expression suddenly melted into one of shock and terror as I shoved him to the ground. He scurried away like a cockroach running form he light as I picked up rocks and hurled them at him. He jumped to his feet and took off like the bat out hell that he was. **"YOU BETTER RUN BEFORE I KILL YOU!"** I screamed after him. **"AND I WILL KILL YOU - YOU MOTHER-FUCKING PRICK! YOU'RE A COWARD, JUST LIKE MY BROTHER!"**

The words rang in my ears as I stood there with a tree limb clenched in my fists like a baseball bat. I could hardly believe what I just said and at the same time, I knew I meant every word of it. I felt frozen as I started to notice the eyes of the small crowd that was gathering behind me. I could barely breathe as I turned around. Everyone stood silent, all curious as to what phantom I was screeching at; since Judas was now long gone.

The door opened as the only One who had courage enough to move came walking outside. We stood there staring at each other for several long minutes before I finally dropped the tree limb. "You talk about fogginess." A strange, almost child like voice emerged from some long lost part of me. "How can I forgive someone who doesn't even think what they did was wrong?" The voice asked. "I can't do it." I said. "I'm sorry."

I only stood there a minute or so more before I started sobbing and ran off into the field. I didn't know where I was going, or what I was doing, or even why I was running. I was just running - so I ran. I ran and I ran and I ran, until I was simply too tired to run any more and I collapsed on the ground.


	20. Dreamer of Dreams

**Dreamer of Dreams**

Music, I hear music! I said to myself as I stood at my parents front door and listened to the beginning of a song I knew I recognized, but couldn't place. The tune must be coming from inside the house? I tell myself as I walk through the door.

" _ **When I think of those east-end lights."**_ Elton John begins to sing. _**"Muggy nights,"**_ I peer around the house. _**"Curtains drawn in the little room down stairs,"**_ I stand next to someone in the partition between the living room and dining room. _**"Prima Donna Lord you really should have been there,"**_ I glance over at Jesus. _**"Sitting like a princess perched in her electric chair,"**_ We are watching my mother. _**"And it's one more beer and I don't hear you any more."**_ She sits with a dozen or so cans on the bar that serves as a kitchen dining table. _**"We've all gone crazy lately."**_ A little girl comes running up from the cellar. _**"Your (friends) downstairs rolling round the basement floor."**_ Oh my God, it's me! I gasp as she goes running by us.

" _ **And someone saved my life tonight sugar bear."**_ I scream as I grab Jesus's arm and sink to the floor. _**"You almost had your hooks in me, didn't ya dear?"**_ He takes hold of my hand as I'm sitting in shock, propped up against His leg. _**"You nearly had me roped and tied,"**_ I start to cry as I watch myself run up the stairs. _**"Alter-bound, Hypnotized."**_ I struggle to my knees as I try to get up and follow. _**"Sweet freedom whispered in my ear."**_ But Jesus holds tightly to my hand and won't move. _**"You're a butterfly."**_ Something comes fluttering down the stairs. _**"And butterflies are free to fly."**_ It's a Monarch. _**"Fly away."**_ I watch it. _**"High away, bye bye."**_ It flutters out the door as Jesus helps me to my feet and I just stare dumbfounded.

" _ **I never realized the passing hours."**_ Someone comes running down the stairs. _**"Evening showers."**_ Another person follows. _**"Slip-noose hanging in my darkest dreams."**_ It's me, followed by my sister, but we are adults now. _**"And strangled by your haunted social scene."**_ I'm wearing my military dress uniform. _**"Just a pawn out played by a dominating queen."**_ She's screaming, shaking a bloodied dead baby at me. _**"It's four o'clock in the morning."**_ The ghost of her abortion. _**"Damn it!"**_ She throws it at me. _**"Listen to me good."**_ I scream at her as she storms out of the house. _**"I'm sleeping with myself tonight"**_ I scoop up the lifeless child. _**"Saved in time."**_ I cry. _**"Thank God my music's still alive."**_

" _ **And someone saved my life tonight sugar bear."**_ I hide my face in Jesus's sleeve. _**"You almost had your hooks in me, didn't ya dear?"**_ I'm sorry I couldn't stop her. _**"You nearly had me roped and tied."**_ I cry as I watch this tiny body disintegrate into the air. _**"Alter bound. Hypnotized."**_ I look at Jesus. _**"Sweet freedom whispered in my ear."**_ I hear fluttering. _**"You're a butterfly."**_ Hundreds of Monarchs come down the stairs. _**"And butterflies are fee to fly."**_ Look. I poke Jesus. _**"Fly away."**_ They all flutter out the door too. _**"High away, bye bye."**_ I chase them outside.

" _ **And I would have walked head on, to the deep end of the river."**_ I stop short behind another figure I recognize as myself dressed in desert camo BDU's _**"Clinging to your stocks and bonds,"**_ We are standing on the edge of a high bridge over a bay. _**"Paying your HP demands for ever."**_ I scream and cover my eyes. _**"Coming in the morning with a truck to take me home."**_ I hear nothing.

" _ **And someone saved my life tonight sugar bear."**_ I open my eyes and see myself. _**"You almost had your hooks in me, didn't ya dear?"**_ I'm still alive. _**"You nearly had me roped and tied."**_ Stepping into an ambulance. _**"Alter bound. Hypnotized."**_ Someone follows me and the medic. _**"Sweet freedom whispered in my ear."**_ It's Jesus. _**"You're a butterfly."**_ The lights go on. _**"And butterflies are free to fly."**_ They drive off. _**"Fly away."**_ Something comes fluttering at me. _**"High away, bye bye."**_ It's a Monarch.

" _ **Someone saved my life tonight."**_ I turn and follow the butterfly. _**"Someone saved my life tonight."**_ There's Jesus ambling along through a field of sunny warm tall spring flowers. _**"Someone saved my life tonight."**_ The Monarch lands on His head. _**"Someone saved my life tonight."**_ He starts to giggle as all these other Monarchs emerge from the field. _**"Someone saved my life tonight."**_ He holds His arms out and they begin to land on Him. _**"So save your strength and run the field you play alone."**_ I hear a child laughing and turn around. It's that little girl again; me, running through this field of wild flowers chasing a butterfly.

" _ **And someone saved my life tonight sugar bear."**_ I watch my little hapless self in my purple shirt and plaid skirt. _**"You almost had your hooks in me, didn't ya dear?"**_ I glance over at Jesus, now clad in an overcoat of Monarchs; _**"You nearly had me roped and tied."**_ Just before oblivious purple child runs into Him. _**"Alter bound, Hypnotized."**_ A plume of Monarchs emerge from where the two have disappeared into the tall flowers. _**"Sweet freedom whispered in my ear."**_ I hurry over. _**"You're a butterfly."**_ You finally came! She looks up at me as she struggles to her feet. _**"And butterflies are free to fly."**_ Before becoming tangled in the vines and inadvertently sitting on Jesus. _**"Fly away."**_ Jesus starts laughing as she topples over His head into the grass. _**"High away, bye bye."**_

Guess Ya could say I come by it honestly Lord. I'm giggling when I noticed the song has ended. Another begins and I stop short a minute as the wind gusts past me. Hey, I recognize this tune too? I say to myself as another gust of wind rushes by. "Man is it windy out here!" I exclaim, before I realize it's not the wind that's moving; it's me. I'm in an old military truck.

" _ **Sun down, all around, walking through the summer's end."**_ Belinda Carlisle breaks in. _**"Waves crash, baby don't look back. I won't walk away again."**_ I take in what's around me. _**"Oh oh oh baby anywhere you go, we are bound together."**_ I recognize the driver. _**"I begin baby where you end."**_ It's one of the Iraqi POW's. _**"Some things are forever."**_

" _ **Circle in the sand, round and round."**_ He glances back at me and points to where we are going. _**"Never ending love is what we've found."**_ The enemy is out there. He says. _**"And you complete the heart of me, a love is all we need."**_ We get them! He giggles. _**"Circle in the sand; (circle in the sand). Circle in the sand; (circle in the sand)."**_

" _ **Cold wind, tide moves in."**_ I hear laughing behind me. _**"Shivers in the salty air."**_ I turn around. _**"Day breaks, my heart aches."**_ It's several more Iraqis, a couple of Brits, Canadian corpsmen and my army buddy Mac! _**"I will wait for you right here."**_ We are all armed. _**"Oh oh oh baby when you look for me."**_ They wave. _**"Can you see forever?"**_ OK? I raise one eye brow. _**"I begin baby where you end."**_ I cautiously wave back as we all lock and load. _**"We belong together."**_ This is weird!

" _ **Circle in the sand, round and round."**_ We start taking gunfire. _**"Rising of the moon as the sun goes down."**_ Someone is hit. We return several rounds. _**"And you complete the heart of me."**_ We've engaged the enemy. _**"A love is all we need."**_ The battle is on and we are talking losses. _**"Circle in the sand; (circle in the sand). Circle in the sand; (circle in the sand).**_

" _ **Baby can you hear me?"**_ A voice rolls through the chaos. _**"Can you hear Me calling?"**_ Everything becomes quiet.

" _ **Oh oh oh baby anywhere you go, we are bound together."**_ The dusty sand settles and the smoke clears. _**"And I begin baby where you end."**_ We are standing before a crucifixion. _**"Somethings are forever!"**_ It's Jesus. I realize as I hold my M-16 up and thrust the bayonet through His side.

" _ **Circle in the sand, round and round."**_ I turn to Mac, two of the surviving Iraqis and the one corpsman. _**"Never ending love is what we've found."**_ They all nod as they pick up their portion of Jesus's clothing. _**"And you complete the heart of me, a love is all we need."**_ I look down at what I have. _**"Circle in the sand; (circle in the sand). Circle in the sand; (circle in the sand)."**_ I got the cloak. _**"Circle in the sand."**_

The music fades into the distance as I reach down and pick up the cloak. Should I put it on? I wonder as I stretch it out in front of me to look for blood stains. Interesting, there aren't any? I puzzle as I bundle it up in my arms and look up for my buddies. Everyone is gone except me; but now, I'm standing in a garden.

" _ **I've always heard there is a land, beyond the mortal dreams of man."**_ Sandi Patti starts to sing. _**"Where every tear will be left behind, but it must be at another time."**_ I smile at the thousands of tulips swaying in the gentle breeze. " _ **Oh oh, oh oh, oh oh."**_ It's beautiful.

" _ **There'll be an ever lasting light. Shining a purest holy white."**_ I look down at myself as I wrap this royal purple robe around me. _**"And every fear will be erased, but it must be at another place."**_ I have on a lovely creamy cotton crinkle gown adorned with colorful flowers. _**"Woah oh, oh oh, oh oh."**_ It's beautiful too.

" _ **So I'm waiting, for another time and another place."**_ I peer up at this magnificent stone country estate. _**"Where all my hopes and dreams will be captured with one look at Jesus's face."**_ OK! Where is He? I giggle as I start running for the front door. _**"Oh oh my heart's been burning my soul keeps yearning."**_ I soon dawn the steps. _**"Sometimes I can't hardly wait, for that, sweet sweet someday."**_ You gotta be in here! I scream in excitement as I swing the door open. _**"When I'll be swept away, to another time and another place."**_

" _ **I've grown so tired of earthy things, they promise peace but furnish pain."**_ I step into the hall. It's filled with photos of people and events I recognize. _**"All of life's sweetest joys combined, could never match those of anther time."**_ I stroll through the entrance way and peek around the corner into the first room. _**"Oh oh, oh oh, oh oh."**_ It's beautiful.

" _ **And though I've put my trust in Christ and felt His Spirit move in my life."**_ I stand and gaze at all the artifacts of my existence. _**"I know it's truly just a taste, of His glory in another place."**_ Dolls and toys, pictures and furniture; everything that meant something to me. _**"Woah oh, oh oh oh."**_ And the Raggedy Ann I made my grandmother. _**"Oh oh oh, oh oh."**_

" _ **So I'm waiting, for another time and another place."**_ Well, He's not in here. I laugh. _**"Where all my hopes and dreams will be captured with one look at Jesus's face."**_ Next room? Nope! Up the stairs? _**"Oh my heart's been burning my soul keeps yearning."**_ I hurry to the second floor and look around. _**"Sometimes I can't hardly wait, for that sweet sweet some day."**_ At the other end of this grand staircase is one more entrance. _**"When I'll be swept away, to another time and another place."**_

I hurry down the hall and open the giant double doors. Just on the inside is a cozy sitting room with furniture I recognize. A fire crackles in the fireplace and over against the opposite corner is a rocking chair and great grandmother's antique lamp. The lamp's top globe is lit up proudly, displaying the delicate rose painted on it's face. Great grandma's lamp is still doing it's job; chasing away the ghosts of the past. I chuckled while my eyes moved on, to the next thing on the table. Occupying the space next to the lamp is a clock from my father's side of the family. The generations ticking away time. I smiled as I watched it's second hand dance across it's elegant numbers. Well, not in here either; but I know I'm getting close. I giggle as I nervously approach the last door. I stop short, now too roused to open it.

" _ **So I'm waiting. (I'm waiting) for another time and another place."**_ I'm starting to sweat and the anticipation is killing me when I hear a gentle creaking behind me. _**"Where all my hopes and dreams will be captured with one look at Jesus's face."**_ I swing around and... there He is, standing just inside the last door I'd come through. I take one step and fall flat on the floor. _**"Oh my heart's been burning my soul keeps yearning."**_ Jesus, help. I gasp as He starts to giggle. _**"Sometimes I can't hardly wait,"**_ Hurry up. I squeak; errr... I'm gonna be... _done?_ \- before You get here. _**"For that sweet sweet someday."**_ He waltzes up to me and playfully leans over. _**"Sweet some day."**_ He's so close that His hair is actually piled on the floor in front of me and to my field of vision, He's upside down. _**"When I'll be swept away."**_ He giggles as He reaches out and affectionally scoops me up. _**"I'll be swept away."**_ I peer over at the last door. Are we going in there? I whisper. Yeah. He smiles. _**"To another time and another place."**_

I awake startled; to the sound of more music. _**"Turn around. Every now and than I get a little bit lonely and you're never coming round."**_ Oh yeah, I remember. _**"Turn around. Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listing to the sound of my tears."**_ I could hear my own voice singing along. _**"Turn around. Every now and then I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years has gone by."**_ I open my eyes as the words seem to stab me. _**"Turn around. Every now and than I get a little bit terrified, but than I see the look in your eyes."**_ I'm in my bed, back in my apartment house in New York. _**"Turn around bright eyes. Every now and then I fall apart."**_ The music continues as I can see the outline of someone strangely familiar standing, staring out the window. _**"Turn around bright eyes. Every now and then I fall apart."**_ The song demands as the figure begins to comply.

" _ **Turn around. Every now and then I get a little bit restless and I dream of something wild."**_ Yeah, this is wild alright! _**"Turn around, Every now and then I get a little bit helpless and I'm lying like a child in your arms."**_ I reach over and flick the light on. _**"Turn around, Every now and then I get a little bit angry and I know I've got to get out and cry."**_ You were in my last dream. I suddenly realize. _**"Turn around, Every now and then I get a little bit terrified, but then I see the look in your eyes."**_ It is Jesus. _**"Turn around bright eyes."**_ I watch Him as He comes walking across the room. _**"Every now and then I fall apart."**_ He never takes His eyes off me, as He stand by my bedroom door with His hand on the knob. _**"Turn around bright eyes."**_ He holds His other hand out as I slowly crawl out of bed. _**"Every now and then I fall apart."**_ He takes my hand, holds on tightly and than - opens the door.

" _ **And I need you now tonight."**_ The song continues as I stare into my parent's basement. _**"And I need you more than ever."**_ Oh my God! I start to tremble as He steps over the threshold. _**"And if you'll only hold me tight, we'll be holding on forever."**_ He reaches back and picks me up. I'm 6 years old again. _**"And we'll only be making it right, cause we'll never be wrong."**_ We are standing in the middle of the crime scene. _**"Together we can take it to the end of the line."**_ He looks strait at my quivering little face. _**"Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time."**_ I hide in His sleeve and start to shake. _**"I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark."**_ The next time I look up. My sixteen year old brother is standing three feet away with his pants down. _**"We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks."**_ I scream! " _ **I really need you tonight - forever's going to start tonight."**_ I finally scream. _**"Forever's going to start tonight."**_

" _ **Once upon a time I was falling in love, but now I'm only falling apart."**_ Next thing I remember is standing at the top of the basement stairs. _**"There's nothing I can do - a total eclipse of the heart."**_ There's another door before us. _**"Once upon a time there was light in my life."**_ Jesus opens it. _**"But now there's only love in the dark."**_ It's a giant warhorse full of army trucks and tanks. _**"Nothing I can say - a total eclipse of the heart."**_ He puts me down and walks through the door. _**"Turn around bright eyes."**_ As I glance at the floor and go to take a step, I notice a ten year old girl in a purple shirt and plaid skirt. _**"Turn around bright eyes."**_ It's finally over!

" _ **Turn around. Every now and then I know you'll never be the boy you always wanted to be."**_ I emerge into the warehouse in full battle gear. _**"Turn around. But every now and then I know you'll always be the only one who wanted me the way that I am."**_ I'm 20 years old now and this is Desert Storm. _**"Turn around. Every now and then I know there's no one in the universe as magical and wondrous as you."**_ I stand and look at Jesus. _**"Turn around. Every now and then I know there's nothing any better and there's nothing that I just wouldn't do."**_ Come on. He motions as we walk through the warehouse. _**"Turn around bright eyes."**_ He stops at another door. _**"Every now and then I fall apart."**_ What's next? I wonder. _**"Turn around bright eyes."**_ He finally opens the door and steps inside. _**"Every now and then I fall apart."**_ We are back in Victoria's Secret.

" _ **And I need you now tonight."**_ I protest going through this door too. _**"And I need you more than ever."**_ I can't! I'm all dirty. The war and all. I tell Him. _**"And if you'll only hold me tight, we'll be holding on forever."**_ He reaches back and pulls me through the door. _**"And we'll only be making it right, cause we'll never be wrong."**_ I stumble over the threshold into His arms. _**"Together we can make it to the end of the line."**_ As He helps me up, I see my combat fatigues are replaced by a long white gown. _**"Your love is like a shadow on me all of the time."**_ I stand and look at the two of us; our garments are very similar. _**"I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark."**_ They are very soft and comfortable, like the nightgowns in the store. _**"We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks."**_ As He turns and moves through the isle toward one last door, I notice the outline of His body as the light passes through His clothing. _**"I really need you tonight - forever's going to start tonight."**_ Wait! I cry as I chase after Him. _**"Forever's going to start tonight."**_

" _ **Once upon a time I was falling in love, but now I'm only falling apart..."**_ I suddenly sit up. _**"Nothing I can say, a total eclipse of the heart."**_ Morning has come and the bright light of the sun awakens me. _**"A total eclipse of the heart."**_ The song keeps ringing in my ears. _**"Turn around bright eyes."**_ I'm sitting in the field I'd collapsed in the night before. _**"Turn around bright eyes."**_ The music fades away. " _ **Turn around."**_ I open my eyes.


	21. No-man's Land

**No-man's Land**

With a groggy start, I took a deep breath and looked around. What was I doing in this field anyways and what strange dreams I've been having? I said to myself as I stretched my feet out in front of me. I looked down, only to notice that I was still wearing Jewish robes and finally resigned myself to the fact that... at least this field I was sitting in; wasn't a dream. I was still in the first century (whatever that really means) and the events that came filtering back from the night before, probably did actually happen. Yeah, but woah, what strange dreams? I wiped my face as a flood of nervous feelings began to surface.

I thought about the first dream with the butterflies and the bridge and wondered what it meant? Most of it was pretty clear; I could see what was going on, although the end of it didn't make much sense. Everything else had happened and the more I pondered these occurrences, along with the words to the song that reflected such events; the pieces fit together. I understood the very end. I was finally free, like a butterfly; but how that freedom was going to come out of me attempting to kill myself, I could not fathom? How can my own insanity ever set me free? I wondered.

I don't know? I finally decided as I put that one aside and moved on to the next dream. Now, I've had a lot of nightmares about Desert Storm, but that one was just plain... weird! I chuckled to myself as I thought about the symbolism. Never ending love is what they (or rather we) had found. Yes, absolutely! That is indeed what I found and funny how the war brought me to that? I considered as I pondered the role of the Iraqis in the dream. I guess redemption is a funny thing in that respect. The grace of God knows no boundaries and just because you might be on opposite sides of a human conflict; you never know who you're going to end up next to in eternity!

Speaking of eternity! Another time and another place? Yeah, uh huh! I'm never going to be able to hear that song again and not have this dream stuck in my head. I grumbled. It's really not fair! I kind of liked that song and now it's ruined. It ain't ever going to be the same again. I continued complaining a moment or two; trying to real my thoughts in. Find a good Bible verse! I told myself, as I figured that would take care of my problem. The only phrase that came to mind though was: "anxiously awaiting the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ" and that wasn't exactly where I wanted to go. Don't think that's quite what that means! I finally started to laugh, since in a strange sort of warped way; it was funny.

Well, Father forgive me; was all I could say as I let out a sigh and just decided to let it go. I felt a twinge of sadness; since for some reason I didn't understand, I got a lot of comfort out of my stupid dreams. I don't know, maybe I really am warped. I tried not to cry as I struggled to admit that I really didn't want to let it go. It was scary and comforting, mind-boggling and yet made a lot of sense; all at the same time?

I began to realize that whatever was going on - dream or not; was working on some subconscious part of my mind. All my unresolved issues that I attempted to bury for so long were rising up to revolt, while all my theological knowledge and academic Bible learnings were sinking down to a depths that became ever and ever increasingly hard to reach. It was still down there somewhere and much of the happenings I had witnessed around me only confirmed its validity; yet at the same time, I couldn't figure out why all my emotions had suddenly gone absolutely haywire? I guess maybe I was scared at the prospect of confronting myself? There are a lot of things about me I didn't want to look at and what made me think God would find my dirty little secrets anymore redeemable than I did? I wondered as I flopped over onto the rippling wheat stalks, which were waving toward heaven. The tears flooded out once more, as I wished I could just dissolve into the soil beneath me.

What felt like hours had passed, although it also seemed like time was standing still. The sun hadn't moved very far, as I finally pushed myself up with an ironic disappointment that there was no way I could melt into the ground. I forced myself to my feet for a good look around, since I didn't know where I was, or how I was going to get back to the house?

I started to walk as my mind visited the last dream I just awoken from. I was very troubled by it's ending and the final scene. It all seemed stuck in my memory; a very human portrayal of the Divine that bordered on erotic, or at least erotic for me. I paused a minute to rub the shame out of my blushing face. I didn't want to go through this again. I determined as I could feel the disdain growing in my soul. I wanted to scream as I fought with the urge to slap my own face. I knew that ultimately did me no good, although I had no trouble admitting that it made me feel better; but if only temporarily. I tried not to think about it as I told myself to keep walking, but was finally so full of hatred, that I gave up and plopped down in the field, to indulge myself in several minutes of self abusive brutality.

I finally sat up, exhausted from my own deluge as I looked around to make sure no one saw me. I was well hidden in the grass and there was not a soul in my immediate sight, so I figured I'd successfully concealed my crime. What do I do now? I wondered as I struggled to stand up. It seemed pointless to return to the house now. I was too mortified by the thoughts of facing anyone; not that I felt they'd ever care to see me again anyways. Maybe I'll get lucky and some accident will end my pathetic life once and for all. I wailed

My sobbing eventually subsided and the vicious cycle of negative thoughts begin their descent. I probably would not be fortunate enough to just get run over by a chariot or have some stray arrow strike me dead; no, I'd probably be raped and tortured before some sadist finally snuffed me out for good. I started to laugh with morbid cynicism, as I struggled to climb up the embarkment to the road. I started to walk, wondering how long it would take me to gather the courage to return to the house; after all, I realized there really wasn't much else I could do.

I let out a sigh as the events of the previous day floated through my mind. All the time I'd spent following Jesus through the streets of several strange (or at least strange to me) towns; eating at the 'diner' and riding the camel. All this and He didn't tell me to get lost, or anything like that. I started to ponder. Maybe He has more interest in me than just marginal tolerance? Either way, I guess if He really didn't like me - I'd know that by now. I let out a chuckle, as I thought of all the Bible passages I'd read where the Pharisees or some such like religious leaders got a new 'hole' ripped for them. So - well, maybe there is some hope for me; or at least will be in the end?

I peered up at the clouds reflecting not only about the past, but the future. I started to feel badly as I thought about how Judas would actually come to regret what he did and end up hanging himself for the guilt he felt in stealing an innocent man's life. My brother on the other hand, was in more hopeless peril, since he really didn't seem to have any remorse for what he'd done. Oh yeah, he claimed he was sorry; but really only sorry he got caught. I recollected as vague memories of someone telling one of my doctors that my brother really thought this was normal behavior.

How is that? The voices screamed in my head.

"it's impossible to avoid that offenses will come, but woe to him who causes them. It would be better for him if a millstone were hanged around his neck and he was thrown into the sea, than if he causes one of these little ones to stumble." The verse kept skipping through my mind. Stumble yeah, I've stumbled alright. I admitted to myself as I followed the trail I'd left in the field. I've stumbled all my life. I let out a sigh as I came up to another road. God I really need Your help. I began to cry again as I looked up and down, trying to decide which way to go. All this weight that's bore down on my soul these so many years. I know I need Your forgiveness too. Beyond the theological parroting of why and how though; I have to confess that I don't really understand any of this.

I stood at the edge of the road as my mind continued to wander. Yes, I've had a lot of goofy dreams (along with a few more to add to now) that I was terribly ashamed of, which had a certain person in them, (who I didn't understand very well). Yet I knew I was attracted to; although not particularly out of appearance (for He wasn't of the prime specimens of male humanity to behold) but maybe simply because of the promise He held. Even though I felt badly about these dreams and all; I knew logically speaking, they weren't really a big deal. It was just my imagination. Nothing really happened and it's not like I have a whole lot of control over what I dream about anyways; so?

I guess that's what was truly bothering me. Why was this happening in the first place? My emotions seemed so out of control (to me) and maybe what I really needed forgiveness for was not how I actually was, but only how I perceived myself to be? I'm not infallible and these things are going to happen to me, because I'm mortal. A mere reflection of the same Adam, standing there with the same fruit in my hand wishing to be something I can't. So, I don't know? Maybe that's it? I need the real God to forgive me for the god that I'm not.

I'd stopped and had been standing at the edge of the road, contemplating my journey back through the fields, when I heard the clip clop of a horse behind me. I turned to see someone in an ox cart traveling up the road. I didn't think much about it and just continued walking when it rolled passed me and pulled over to stop. I suddenly looked up realizing I recognized this group of people. It was John and Mary, Philip and Andrew. Wow, had they actually come looking for me? I started to sniffle as I wondered if they'd really been sent by Someone else?

"Hi guys." A small voice squeaked out as I hurried on over to them. I wasn't paying too much attention as John pulled me up into the cart when a fifth figure sat up and moved over to make room for me. I had sat down and was busy wrapping myself in my scarf before I realized who the fifth person was. Sitting across from me with eyes closed and head leaning up against the back gate was Jesus.

He opened His eyes, briefly sat up and reached across the cart. When His fingers came in contact with my stinging face; I let out a sniffling chuckle, as 'Vulcan mind meld' flashed through my thoughts. Yes Lord there is a lot of crap between my ears that needs cleaning out. I started to laugh. And if You could make me stop doing that; that would be good too. Jesus looked at me a minute or so before He cracked a smile and then resumed His position against the tail gate.

"And by the way." I mumbled as I reached out and shook His foot. "Yaw-daw."

"Yo.. well'-koom." Jesus labored a bit as He flashed me a puzzled look. I nodded with a little smile.

John indicated that we were again headed back into the city as he vigorously pointed down the road and repeated "Yah'ru-saalem. Yah'ru-saalem" until he seemed convinced that I understood what he was saying. "Thank you. Thank you." I smiled as I nodded that I indeed 'got it'. Good. John gestured as he turned his attention back to Andrew. Was I going home to my century now? I started to wonder as I wiggled around and tried to get comfortable.

Jesus pulled His feet out of my way as the cart bounced down the road. His eyes had drifted closed again and I sat watching Him a minute or two longer. His breathing slowed until it almost stopped altogether and then He took a deep breath and started all over again. What does God dream about? I wondered as we went over a bump and He was nudged back into a state of semi-consciousness. He'd open His eyes and closed them again, seeming too tired to notice the rut we'd just passed.

My eyes began to wander around the scenery as I listened to Andrew and Philip laugh. I had no idea what they were talking about, but something in the rhythm of the bustling streets was amusing them. I looked at Mary, who started to snicker as she subtly gestured toward a group of scribes and Pharisees who were obviously unhappy about something.

They were blustering at a ferrel dog as they chased it down the street, several of them standing around one fellow who was shaking his head as he was looking down inspecting his tunic. It took me a couple of minutes to realize, this dog had peed on him. I started to snicker myself, wondering if one of these fellows was the one I'd decked a couple of days earlier?

We were all still glancing around at each other in subdued chuckles when for no reason it seemed, Jesus was suddenly jolted out of His tranquil world. Mary John and I turned to Him as He sat up, looked around, mumbled something, restlessly squirming about before He pulled His Tallit up over His head and face, changed positions and laid down on the floor of the cart, with His head now next to me, although facing the tail gate.

John and Andrew flashed each other puzzled looks of concern as Mary kindly patted Jesus's leg while she pulled His tunic down over HIs feet. Jesus let out a sigh as He seemed to grow quiet; although I think I was the only one who could hear His muffled sniffles and whimpers. I simply placed my right hand on His head praying that what ever solace we could offer Him, He'd actually find comfort in.

We can't help You. I sighed as I plucked through the folds of prayer shawl to uncover His face. He didn't move, but lay there with eyes open staring at the tail gate.

I know. He seemed to sigh in reply.

What day is it actually? My mind wandered as I twirled the little tassels around my fingers. It has to be Thursday I pondered as peered down at Jesus; the world's Passover lamb laying in this cart. You gotta do it. My thoughts spoke to Him as He continued to stare at the gate.

Yeah, I know. He seemed to sigh again in reply as He pulled the shawl back over His face and cried some more.

Another 20 minutes or so had passed when we were pulling off the side of the road. I watched with a certain sense of awe as John reached over Mary, slapped Jesus on the backside and in no shorter words said: wake up - we're here.

What an odd lack of respect this seemed to me to be, as Jesus only mumbled some sort of acknowledgement before He sat up and backhanded John in return. John started to laugh as Mary began to object, being in the middle of 'no man's land' while the two of them began to swat back and forth in a rather childish rendition of 'you're it'. They both started laughing when; finally having enough, Mary drew the final straw and started throwing it at them. (Straw that is.)

Philip slowly turned around with a smirk on his face that resembled a father in the car with his naughty children in the back seat; as now that Andrew was in on the act, a straw flying frenzy was nearly in full swing. At this point Mary was scolding Jesus like she was His mom.

Jesus only flopped down backwards in the cart nearly laughing hysterically, as He sort of hid behind me while John was now hurling fist fulls of straw in our direction; most of which was landing on Mary. Lack of sleep and the stress of pending judgement have turned Your Son into a delinquent. I sort of smirked as I gave Jesus the 'side eye' peer.

Jesus had scooted up nearly behind me, hiding His face between the side of the cart and my shoulder, with one arm sort of around me, flipping straw at Andrew, when He started to make a strange noise. He sat up and rather quickly climbed out of the cart, nearly landing in the street, before He pulled himself up and began walking around in a circle at the side of the road. He seemed to be hyperventilating; although it was a little unclear as to why.

Andrew jumped out to assist Him, as He stood at the side of the road, leaning over with hands on His knees trying to catch His breath. It looked like the onset of another panic attack to me; although Jesus seemed pretty intent on reassuring Andrew that He really was OK. He staggered over to the side of the cart, leaning against the wheel with His hands now clenching the slat between Mary and John. Anther 10 minutes or so had passed when Jesus seemed to have calmed down enough to move on to the next intended task.

He motioned to me that I should get out of the cart and follow Him, while He instructed the rest on where He would later meet them. I wondered where He'd be taking me this time? I glanced at Him as I slowly climbed out. I hopped down off the little step behind the tail gate; and the cart began to roll away. I waved to Mary and everyone else as Jesus just sort of stood behind me, holding my one arm and facing the opposite direction. I turned and looked at Him as He was counting streets again.

He grabbed my arm and began to walk; sort of dragging me behind Him, He staggered like He was a bit inebriated. I knew that wasn't the case, since He didn't smell like He was drunk. I'd certainly been around my mother, (as well as exhausted soldiers) enough times to know the difference. Jesus was tired. I knew that and thus, at least part of the reason for His erratic behavior. Interesting, I thought to myself. Lack of sleep does the same thing to God incarnate that it does to me.

We ambled our way up a road when Jesus finally managed to get enough control over Himself to at least walk in a strait line. But maybe Ya could use a couple of glasses of wine? I thought to myself. If being tired makes Ya loopy; enough wine would probably put Ya to sleep. Although I wasn't sure how appropriate it would be in the scheme of God's eternal salvation plan to get the Passover lamb drunk? 'What's that in the bread, it's gone to my head...' The words to a song from Jesus Christ Superstar tripped through my mind. Not that I ever cared too much for that musical. I always thought it was a bit tasteless. Monty Python's _The Life of Brian_ though; now _**that**_ was hilarious!

Blessed are the cheese makers!


	22. Descent into Darkness

**Descent into Darkness**

I was still absorbed in the goings on inside my own skull when we came to a house. It was a nice, quite large house; (which didn't seem too far from Cornelius's) obviously upper class from the looks of it and we walked right _**in**_ the front door.

A man greeted us with outstretched arms as he came walking across the broad front hall. He was evidently a Roman aristocrat in his long white and blue toga with short wavy salt and pepper hair. He wore a small wreath on his head, which he removed and laid on one of the tables as he approached us. He humbly knelt down in front of Jesus in a gesture of reverence I had seen no place else.

"Ig-na-ti-ous." Jesus addressed him by his first name as he stood up and they hugged. No where would I have ever imagined to see that? I thought to myself, as the image of this very wealthy and well respected Roman citizen bowing before a poor Jew stuck in my mind. I was impressed with this man's sincerity as he kindly instructed one of his servants to bring us some water. Other members of the household came running from various rooms with excitement in their eyes and joy in their voices, all to meet this pauper on their doorstep whom they obviously loved and respected very much. Ironic, I sort of chuckled as I thought of how they treated Him better in some respects, than His own apostles? Odd as it seemed; I guess it's true that a prophet is not without honor except in His own country.

They continued to talk a little while longer when I realized it was intended that I be their guest for a while. They seem like nice enough people. I thought to myself; but I don't want to stay here. I nervously whined as my hand now inched it's way up and entwined tighter into the sleeve of the cloak that was wrapped around Jesus's body.

No, don't leave me here! I could hear the words in my own head plead. I began to tremble and when He turned from me to walk away, my quiet whimpers suddenly digressed into an unexpected shriek of panic. I quickly covered my mouth and started to cry while the whole family just stood staring. Jesus only rather gently tugged on my sleeve, before He took my arm and led me away from the curious eyes of the children who began to gather in the hall, to see what all the commotion was about.

By the time we had reached a secluded area, I had lost my composure completely. I wasn't sure exactly why, or what this meant, but I really didn't want Him to leave me; so I clung to His arm and would not let go. Ignatius had followed us into this room and turned to close the door.

[Are you OK Lord?]

[No, I'm not.]

[Cornelius and Horatio were over here yesterday and today telling me of what you told them that you would be crucified Friday.]

[Yes... I told them that.]

[Why? This does not make any sense. You are not a criminal! So, why?]

[There are many reasons. I told them that too.]

[I know Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin hate you; but this has gone too far!]

[It is the time I have been appointed to.]

[I know. You have said that to me before; but I do not understand any of this...]

Ignatius paused.

[Who's the girl. I have never seen her before.]

[She's my sister... from another mother... from...a far away country.]

[She looks like a Britannian.]

Jesus paused and looked at me, than at Ignatius.

[Yes... She is; or at least her ancestors are. She comes from across the great sea; across the greater sea though. Across from Tarshish.]

[Atlantis?]

[No, they call it America. It's two large... continents...? On one is the empire they call the United States.]

[She told you this?]

[No, my Father did. She does't speak our languages and she doesn't understand us.]

[Yes, Horatio told me this too. How did she get here?]

[I have no idea.]

[Your Father didn't tell you that?]

Ignatius chuckled while Jesus let out a sigh.

[No.]

[So why is she here?]

[I don't know that either.]

[Anther thing He didn't tell you: Not very forthcoming with information lately, is He?]

Ignatius chuckled again as Jesus just shook His head.

[So how is it she's come to you. She must know the prophecies?]

[Oh... She certainly does. She knows more about me than any other human being in this world right now.]

[How?]

[She is in-dwelt by the Spirit who hasn't even been poured out yet.]

[The Spirit... You mean your Spirit that you've spoken about?]

[Eh... Yeah.]

[Cornelius told me that he'd asked if she came form the end and that you'd said she's closer to the end than we are?]

[Yes, this is true; although I still don't know when the end is.]

[Do you want to know when the end is?]

[Some things are left better to my Father's own discretion.]

Ignatius paused another minute or so, as his gaze drifted around Jesus to me, now with both hands strung through Jesus's cloak sleeves; I stood behind Him, resting my head against His shoulder and rubbing His cloak on my face.

[Well... she seems to like you.]

[Oh... she sure does.]

Jesus answered rather haply when Ignatius began to chuckle and than smiled coyly.

[Well...]

[I can't]

Jesus glared at Ignatius with a look in His face that said: Please tell me you aren't serious. Ignatius began to laugh.

[You could; but you won't.] Ignatius broke in with a sincere chuckle. [Son of God, yes I believe that; but if you could see the look on your face right now.]

Ignatius smiled broadly and let out another little snicker, as he picked his hands up, walked over to Jesus and took Him by the shoulders.

[For that Father of yours you want to make good on.]

Ignatius hugged Jesus and looked Him strait in the eye.

[You are so devoted to this purpose He set you to. No one could do the things you've done if the Almighty were not with him. You stick to your course of appointed time and place. Even if they do crucify you. I will always respect you for the love you've shown us. And so...]

"Doesn't mean anything though if Ya don't come back from the dead!" I suddenly blurted out.

Ignatius paused mid sentence, slowly peering around Jesus at me.

[I thought she couldn't understand us?]

[She can't.]

[What'd she say?]

[It does't mean anything if I don't come back from the dead.]

[You can understand her?]

[No.]

Ignatius stood back a moment flashing Jesus a series of perplexed looks before he finally said something.

[...That Spirit of yours?]

[That Spirit.]

[That's scary.]

[That'll be you too in about 50 days.]

[That's scary!]

[That's what I mean! If I don't do this, I lose everything. All of it. You, Horatio, Cornelius, her, everything! Time will end now if I fail.]

Jesus suddenly began to cry.

[This is the greatest tribulation this world will ever know.]

He sucked in a sob.

[I came for this purpose and I don't want it destroyed.]

[I have never seen you so afraid.]

Ignatius stood in awe.

[Are you afraid of dying?]

[No, I'm afraid of being destroyed.]

Ignatius stepped back a moment and thoughtfully folded his arms.

[But what's that prophet you told me about? Time of Jacob's troubles. You will be chastised, but not lost. God will save you out of the integrity of your own obedience.]

"Jeremiah." I blurted out again as Ignatius peered around Jesus one last time.

[Jeremiah.]

[That's Jeremiah?]

[That's Jeremiah.]

[That's scary.]

Ignatius stood for a few more minutes looking thoughtfully at Jesus before he asked:

[What do you need?]

[Sleep.]

[Sleep? I think I have something that might help.]

Ignatius held a finger in the air just before excusing himself. After he left the room; Jesus looked around a minute or so, before He loosed Himself from my grip and stumbled over to a couch next to the window. There He plopped down, staring blankly across the room. He looked so exhausted His eyes glazed over.

Ignatius returned with a couple of cups of what looked to be tea. He handed one to each of us, said a few departing words and left again, quietly closing the door behind him.

I wandered over and sat down next to Jesus, peering into this cup of warm liquid. It smelled like cinnamon. I tasted it. I didn't know what it was; but I liked it. After I downed about half, I realized it must be some sort of sedative; for I was starting to feel rather... sedated. I peered over at Jesus. He still looked exhausted and glazed, but now sedately so.

What could have only been several hours later; I awoke laying on my stomach, still on this couch. It seemed oddly dark outside, although it was still daylight. I could feel something heavy poised in the middle of my back and when I looked down at my arm, I could see another arm hanging over mine. When I tried to turn my head the other way; I realized Jesus was between me and the wall; seemingly sound asleep (finally) with His head resting on my back and one arm hanging off the couch.

I lay there for about 10 minutes, listening to Him breath, the birds outside, the people rustling around in the street and the lambs and goats naying. There were a lot of animals out there, being prepared for the slaughter I thought to myself as I started to wonder if Jesus was now any more prepared for the slaughter than He'd been a few hours before?

Finally He began to stir and a few minutes later we both sat up. He seemed a bit confused as He looked around the room and then at me. He mumbled something as He peered out the window.

"There's a Passover lamb to be slaughtered." I responded as my attention too turned outside.

Jesus sat a minute longer before He suddenly threw His arms around me in a bear hug.

[Passover lamb to be slaughtered.] He sighed as He leaned over and kissed me, than simply got up and left the room.

I sat there with one raised eyebrow as the door closed. Passover lamb, wrath of God, takes away the sin of the world, one exhausted Messiah who's acting a bit erratic on the darkest night in creation's history. Not exactly your typical Thursday! I sighed as I flopped back down and stared at the ceiling.


	23. The Americans of Ancient Rome

**Americans of Ancient Rome**

I awoke some time later, to a woman with a damp cloth dabbing my face. I sat up immediately, noticing the only light in the room was from two lamps on either side of the window. It was dark outside and me with my little couch, had been moved to a different wall.

I looked at the woman sitting next to me with her small clay pot of water and expression of confusion. Her clothing differed from mine and 'gentile' was the first thought that popped into my head. Where was Jesus? I wondered, as I began looking around the room and then got up to peek outside the door. There was a slave in the corridor tending to the plants and a small child in a toga being escorted across the hall by an older child. Oh Yeah, I remember now; these people are Romans. I said to myself as I turned back to the woman.

She made her finest attempts to communicate with me in what ever language she seemed to feel was appropriate. Unfortunately though, her attempts were futile. I didn't know Greek, Hebrew, Aramaic or what ever other language she thought to speak to me in and of course I knew she wouldn't understand English; especially since it hadn't been invented yet.

It didn't take long for her to realize who I was looking for and she did her best to tell me what had become of Jesus. My creative use of American Sign Language was of tremendous aid to both of us. I had some idea of where He'd gone, but my lack of knowledge of the city, as well as lack of access to a time piece I could actuallyread; left me at a severe disadvantage. After much intensive labor at teaching a crash course on the language of the modern deaf; I was able to ascertain that Passover had already begun, while the whole city sat in eerie silence.

I tried to express my sorrow over what I knew was about to happen, but she of course didn't understand. I was puzzled and distraught with the whole situation, because she really didn't believe me that Jesus would be dead and buried within 24 hours. She kept telling me that all her household thought so highly of Him. He was special to them, for he had saved their little boy from death.

The people love him. She said and tried to reassure me that no-one would want to hurt him. I finally gave up in total frustration and just sat down and cried. I was so angry. All of this was so unfair and I kept trying to tell myself that in three days, it would all be over and everything would be OK again. It was so black outside it frightened me and I tried hard to pray about it; but the sky was just as icy as it was black.

My Roman hostess excused herself while I just sat on the couch pounding the upholstery with my fists and slapping the pillows against the walls. When I finally tired from taking my rage out on the furniture; I plopped back down and stared at the ceiling. The cold black death of night was creeping in ever so closely. What was this dark oppression that seemed to be hunting _me_ down, as well as Jesus; and why, why me?

I pulled my scarf off while I got up and wandered around the room a minute or so. I was about to toss it with the mats on the floor, when something damp caught my attention. "What the... Ichh." I grimaced in bewilderment, as I stretched out my headpiece and carried it over to the lamp for further inspection. Upon my approach to the flickering light, I could see a wet blotch and half dried smear of... _something_ emanating from the spot. The mystery material was moist and sort of sticky.

It took a minute for the smaller details from the past few hours to surface, before I realized the smear was mucus. I vaguely remembered Jesus sobbing and then wiping His face with His hands and sleeve a few times before hugging me. (He'd been doing that all day - basically.) I guess He transferred the byproducts of His despair from His sleeve to my scarf; or at least that was as best as I could figure must have happened? Although admittedly I didn't remember much passed drinking the tea. We'd fallen asleep shortly after He'd settled down from crying.

"Yuck." I shuddered as I looked down at the scarf one last time before I was going to throw it into the laundry. I stopped short a minute, ready to toss the garment aside when a strange thought suddenly stopped me dead. It looks like seamen. I gasped as I wadded the evidence up and threw it on the floor. Well, I know it's definitely not... _**that**_ _!_ I scolded myself as I paced a few more laps knowing _that_ was not something Jesus shared with anyone; except maybe His shameese. I smirked in painful embarrassment as I contemplated that; after all, the longer I was here, the more and more I saw the human side of Him.

Science has taught us a lot about this creation and how it operates. My mind began to wander as I thought about all the courses I'd taken and _all_ the programs I loved to watch on _**all**_ those educational channels. Boy if I could do cable 'a la cart'! I let out a little laugh. Give me Discovery, TLC, History, Animal Planet and maybe some news channel and I'd be happy. Oh, they better throw in A&E too; since I like their biography specials and of course we can't forget WXXI. Gotta have Antiques Roadshow! What all else could you ask for to satisfy the knowledge junkie?

I don't know though? Knowledge can be power, but it can also be oppressive. The more I've learned about this world, the more glaring the evil has become; I recognized. I've always heard people say that if there was no bad, we would not appreciate the good; but I'm not so sure that theory itself isn't warped. For someone who's witnessed a lot of suffering and watched a war pass before my eyes; I can't say any of it made me more grateful. No, it never made me appreciate the good; it just made me cry more. I concluded, as I decided that I really could now dismiss that notion for the lie that it is. The only thing that makes us grateful is God opening our eyes to see His goodness.

Oh yes, the goodness of God. I realigned my thoughts as I began to ponder the real reason Jesus was here in the first place. It's that atonement thing again! I chuckled while I glanced down at the scarf and the part of Jesus that He'd left behind.

I guess He's left a lot of Himself behind. I sighed, for I'd long ago realized that in the magnitude of eternity and time, nothing Jesus did actually meant anything without that death. He's left far more behind than any forensics lab could ever identify, because He'd given away all that He had; including the Spirit of God. Funny how that is? I suddenly realized, as all the miracles and sermons marched by me like an army on parade: the last of which they'd bring to show forth is their King! Even all the "fluff' that came before the end, was not as important as the end itself. Jesus lived to die and died so that I could live. All the rest was just details! What an eye opener.

Speaking of opening our eyes. I paused a minute as my attention drifted again to the soiled scarf in my possession and all the knowledge about biology I'd accumulated over the years. It's sort of ironic how all our interactions and understand about the world we live in, come to us through a jumble of chemical reactions passing though a mass of neurons. How very complicated this world (and every thing in it) is. I recollected as I peered out the window and thought about all the hormones, enzymes and neurotransmitters that are constantly surging through our brains and bodies.

If Jesus is physically no different than the rest of us; maybe God understands this a whole lot more than I think He does? The light finally dawned. After all, there is a huge difference between knowledge and experience. God the Father (as well as the Holy Spirit) may know about all this... biology stuff; but of the three, only Jesus has actually lived through it. I mumbled to myself as the opening bars of Law & Order popped into my head.

Being the fleshly creature that Jesus is; He leaves behind the same dust of His existence that we all do. I laughed as I plucked a hair off my scarf and held it up to the light. DNA, the fingerprint of God's literal presence; the proof that would remain here long after He was gone. Of course no detective would ever find it, but it's here; as the witness of God's eternal purpose. Not only has He created this world, I realized; He is intimately intertwined into the very fibers of it's life!

Looking at the evidence; my mind took another detour as I picked up the scarf, wondering where I could sneak off to wash it, so no one would notice this mysterious stain and get the wrong idea. After all, men only go by what they see; often times deceived by their own sin, regardless of what concrete verification is really there. What would these people say if they ever found out about this secret (that really was no secret at all). I started to question as an odd recollection of Jesus's conversation with the man He called Ignatius popped into my head.

Certain things suddenly struck me as... intuitive? I realized as I'd inadvertently found myself participating in a conversation that I could not even understand. 'Doesn't mean anything though if Ya don't come back from the dead!' I pondered my contributions as Ignatius kept peering around Jesus at me; at one point innocuously snickering suggestions at Him. I sucked in a deep breath as I recalled Jesus's reaction. I could not understand a word He was saying; only that He seemed ever increasingly exasperated over... the Plan? 'Not my will but Thine be done.' The thought kicked around in my head. No... I shook it away. Jesus can't have that... weakness!

Yeah... a chill ran through my body as I thought about Ignatius's inference and the fact that even though _**I**_ knew what was on this scarf, there was no way to prove to anyone else what it wasn't. There's no forensic labs to tell the rest of the world, it's just... snot!

Snot? Yes snot! I started to chuckle. "Holy Snot Batman!" I started to laugh at the first thought that came to mind. I guess there really was some vague humor in this situation, I considered as my memory returned to rescue me; when I realized there was little chance the tears and crying which emanated from the both of us could be interpreted as anything but tears and crying. They certainly weren't wails of pleasure; and any honest person would attest to that! I sighed with a hint of cynicism.

Well, speaking of forensics; I wonder if there's DNA in snot? I don't know? I don't remember? I began to ramble as I tried to think back on the hundreds of crime shows I'd watched on the topic. I would guess there would have to be, since I know there's DNA in saliva. I concluded. I'd have to get back to the 20th century first though; and if I had my own crime lab... I laughed; for although I knew I had no way of investigating Jesus's genetic profile, the thought of what I might find was intriguing.

I walked one more lap before I plopped down on the couch again. I thought about exiting the room to go rustle up some grub, but I didn't really feel like leaving. I was still too depressed. All the weighty matters that rested in the midst of my soul were getting to me. I supposed; even though I could not think of one thing that I hadn't already rehearsed in my head some how or some way. I was tired of thinking and it didn't seem to matter that we were night on the end - so to speak. I guess all I just wanted to know was that I wasn't about to lose it.

The topic of my sanity ran circles around the inside of my head for a little while: before the woman who'd left me returned. Uh oh. I sighed as I tried not to panic about the scarf in my hands. She looked at me and then at this article of clothing, as she turned and went through a small chest of drawers that I'd never noticed before. It hid in the corner under a tapestry and inside where more garments. While she pulled them out, I realized that she saw something I'd missed in my preoccupation with the scarf. I also had 'biological material' smeared across the shoulder of my tunic and down one sleeve.

She smiled politely as I grinned with embarrassment at the mess I suddenly realized I was. She only nodded as she placed the clean items down next to me, picked up the scarf and quietly left the room a minute. I peered outside too see where she went, when I noticed a second person carrying another pile that contained other items that looked familiar. On top of that pile was a brown stripped cloth. She added the scarf to the other laundry before she returned to me with some water and a wash basin. It was then that I realized my scarf evidently was not the only thing that bore the 'marks of the passion... eh - sorrow of Christ'.

Well, I guess there's no fear now that they will not understand. I concluded as I peeled off my outer layers and picked up the wash basin. After a decent sponge bath, I took a look at the pile of clothes I'd been left with. A horse of a different color; I'd now be transformed into. I let out a chuckle as I realized that apparently Jesus too; had left this house in attire other than He'd entered.

I fished though the stack of garments, as I wondered if the difference in styles would mean much more than a label people would identify us with? Would Jesus dare leave the premises with dress that was 'other than Jewish'? Would He be in serious trouble if He did? I knew there to be no specifications in the Scriptures as to what was 'Jew' and what was 'not', but that doesn't seem to mean much of anything in this day and age. I laughed in jest, as I considered my own time period.

"Oh well." I said as I decided to put all the silly questions aside and go find my dinner. I walked out into the hall, now nice and clean in my new tunic and clean scarf; when I noticed a slave who seemed happy to see me. He motioned that I should come with him and we descended some stairs to the family's banquet hall. I joined the family for dinner as the evening passed away into night and I periodically flashed to thoughts of where Jesus was and what was happening? These pondering were fleeting though and the more I tired to stay on them, the more my mind lapsed into a coma.

I found my means of communication ironic in a strange sort of way. Sign Language at the very moment in history when God had turned a deaf ear on His entire creation. I knew intellectuality that if at any point in time, we all hung in the balance; it was now. The whole universe in suspended animation, so fragilely somewhere between time and God's almighty wrath. I was the lucky one though, at least I had 'time' on my side; 2000 years of it to testify that yes; Jesus did make it. Even so, it didn't ease the oppression of death.

My mind kept dropping in and out of slumber, as I went through the pantomime of social interaction. By this time, much of the rest of her adult family members had become involved in the conversation; which had moved outside the formal dining hall, to a smaller reception room. From what I could make out, this home belonged to her husband's family; who had earned their wealth as merchants on the high seas. Her father-in-law (Ignatius) was the owner of a small ship building company that provided transportation to the local merchants sending goods between Jerusalem, Corinth and Rome. Within the household were her husband's parents and two sisters, along with her mother and several children.

The family was very pleasant and much to my surprise treated each other (as well as myself) with respect and dignity. They were rather modern 'ancients'; for the five of them worked together in a sort of business co-op. Her mother and sisters-in-law traveled often to help in making business decisions. They were like scouts, who along with her husband and one cousin, would go snoop out an area. The daughter / mother-in-law team did the record keeping and would report to her husband on where the money was going. The men worked in conjunction with the information their female informants provided, on what services could best be rendered where. Her husband would take in all this information, discuss it with his father; and the two of them put their shrewd business minds together to come up with a plan of action.

They were a very efficient family unit, as well as business partners; and I was beginning to see why Jesus chose them to be my 'surrogate society'. They were probably the closest thing I would recognize to 20th Century America and also the safest people I could be with. They weren't encumbered by Jewish ritual, nor trapped by pagan superstitions and seemed to truly enjoy the wisdom gained from peoples of other cultures. I was beginning to wonder if I was sitting with a family I read about the new testament.

The exchange was truly bilateral and I knew I wasn't the only one who benefited from this encounter. They were amazed to hear tales of a distant land that thrived outside of Roman borders and I think they felt validated in the running of their household; by the fact that an entire society strives for their ideals of cooperation and fairness. They were truly people who were ahead of their time and they were enjoying the private glory of their pioneering spirit.

The more I shared with them, the more I could see their eagerness to learn and a heartfelt patriotism for a better Rome. It surprised me, considering my own lapse of respect for America as a nation and how it conducted its affairs. I listened with a strange sort of intrigue as they talked about their Emperor, Pilate, Herod and all these other infamous characters of history now passed; or at least from my point of view, it was now past.

I listened to all that they were pleased with about their time and age and wondered if I should say anymore about the 20th century than I'd already hinted at? I decided it probably wouldn't be such a good idea, as I noticed that night was fading and so was everyone else along with it. Fatigue soon won out and we all retired to our separate rooms to pass the night in our own silences. Dark and scary tonight; one of the slaves shuttered to his master, as I watched him collect all the lights into the fire, to be tended to till morning's breakfast was served.


	24. The Battle belongs to the Lord

**The Battle Belongs to the Lord**

I sat in the dead stillness of my upstairs... monastery cell, occasionally peering through the curtains into the bleak night; all the while watching and waiting. What was going on? I wondered. Bits and pieces of songs flashed through my mind, but none ever stayed very long.

"Ask me if I think there's a God up in the heavens, where did He go in the middle of...their shame? Ask me if I think there's a God up in the heavens; I see no mercy, no one down here's naming names."

"Hear the one who holds _his_ peace and seldom has His say... and Lord mend the bleeding heart grown cold, the heart grown cold from yesterday. From the hurts of yesterday, rebuild the one torn down from all the blows of life and sin, Lord heal the broken one who lives within."

"Well I picked up all these pieces and I built a strong deception and I locked myself inside of it for my own protection. And I sit alone inside myself and curse my company; for this thing that is kept me alive for so long is now killing me."

"Dressed now and seated; clean in spirit and healthy of mind; man of the tombs, he begs to follow but must stay behind. He'll return to his family with stories to tell; of mercy and madness, of heaven and hell. Man of the tombs, soon he will cry out loud..." _Little did I understand what that would mean to me personally years later; for that'd almost literally be my experience._

I paced several laps wondering what hour was thus? Oh how I'd wished I'd had my handy daddy trusty 20th Century watch to check. I snickered to myself. What was going on? Was Passover - over? Were they all in the garden now? Could I see any of it? The questions flickered through my mind like the grainy images from Cecil DiMille's 1927 King of King's silent film. Silence yes; the silence is deafening! I growled as I grabbed my headscarf and hurried down the hall to the stairs at the back of the house. From there I climbed up to the roof.

I surveyed a round or two before my eyes finally focused on the back of the temple complex. I caught some people milling about and I observed a moment; wrapping my scarf around me in an attempt to ward off the chilly air. Who were these people? I scrutinized their every move. Did I know any of them from the pages of my Bible? I searched diligently for some clues; but most of what I saw (besides roof tops) was a few empty courtyards and some segments of the street.

My eyes wandered the path below the house, through the side yard into the back slave quarters; when I realized where we were. It wasn't but a stone's throw from the wall to the city gate, in which the Mount of Olives was almost literally right across the street. As my eyes came to rest on a few people starting to gather in one of the small courts inside the temple complex; a strange and frightening urge came upon me. I wonder if I can beat them to the garden?

After a few minutes of deliberating, _trying to talk myself out of this_ ; my crazy and dangerous scheme got the best of me, as I hurried back down the stairs into the house. The plan started to formulate while I passed several rooms on the way back to my own. I paused in the hall at small pile of linens which had been left outside someone's door; before I swiped them up and carried them away. I was back in my room before I knew it; my idea quickly unfolding into a plan of action.

It was just one of those times when you don't really think about what you're doing; because if you did, you'd scare yourself out of doing it. I thought for a moment as I pulled off my top layers of clothing and began wrapping strips around my body. If I was going to make this work, I had to do it well; _but not so well as to impinge my breathing._ I knew, as I scurried back into the hall for the foot gear I had neglected earlier.

With the armor and leather strapped belt and place, I threw the long red cloak around my shoulders and descended down the stairs into the darkness. On my way out the side door, I grabbed my last accessory as it sat waiting on its stand for its rightful owner. I paused a moment to straighten myself, while I pulled the helmet over my hastily braided hair and secured it firmly to my head. I was now in the army again! I determined, as I took one last breath and stepped into the court yard.

I walked tall and straight with the cloak fastened closed in front of me. I knew I was certainly large enough to pass for a man and so long as I walked like a Roman soldier; there was no reason for anyone to question the fact that I wasn't! After all, I was getting pretty good at 1st Century charades and maybe a little too daring at this point. I considered, while I continued down the street keeping my military bearing as I passed the public.

I didn't pay any attention to the civilians and only nodded to the other soldiers as I broke into a jog, making like I was in a hurry. No one ever stops a man whose on his way to watch. I chuckled to myself, for I knew there certainly must be at least a few things about military life that haven't changed. They only laughed and cheered as I raised my hand in a quick gesture of greeting, while I turned up another street. I kept on jogging until they were out of sight; but if only for a moment.

It felt good to run for a change. Free from the cumbersome apparel of the first century woman; I threw the cloak off over my shoulders and kept going, my naked arms and legs taking in the night air. Funny as I thought it was, to be impersonating a soldier from some other army. And an army that would probably be surprised to think this comrade in arms, running through their streets is actually a woman. I chuckled, as I found it rather amazing that no one paid any attention to me at all. I guess my own army had trained me well! I snickered to myself as I realize that yes indeed, at the very least, they taught me to run like a guy!

I was nearly at the city gate when I came upon a group of about 10 or 12 men; who I almost run past before I recognize who they were. I stopped in the road and turned around to look for a moment; when several slowed for caution of my noticing them. Oh yes, I suddenly remembered as I simply turned and continued running. I'm now a threat! Funny how things change so fast. I thought as I hurried off for the garden.

I was wandering among the knotty trees; _which I originally thought was 'the garden of Gethsemane'_ for what I guessed to be almost 10 minutes, before I could hear anyone else coming. I quickly moved towards some short, scrubby bushes, where I sat down behind a rock with my back to the rest of the garden. I decided to leave the helmet on so no one would get suspicious of my hair; even though it was ever increasingly harder to hear. I wanted to look like I was just "chillin" if someone should stumble upon me; _which indeed, was exactly what I was doing._ I soon noticed, as I pulled the cloak up around me. The air was unusually cold and for someone who just been running at least a good mile, this seamed particularly odd.

I sat for several long minutes before I realized I must be in the wrong place; since no one could actually fall asleep in this weather. I soon stood up searching around for what I should do next, when I noticed several other people heading for what looked like the mouth of the cave situated at the far end of this garden.

I straitened myself and took a deep breath as I cautiously made my way toward the opening. I didn't want to startle anyone; yet at the same time, I couldn't figure out how I could avoided that without blowing my cover. After all, what would a Roman soldier be doing here? I asked myself, as I tried to think of a good excuse as to why some poor infantryman might want to hide among commoners and in a rock cleft to boot!

While pondering my dilemma, I turned the other direction and leaned against a tree. I saw the brood I'd just passed by the city gates headed in this direction. I started to wonder what was going on, for I noticed they had stopped. I made my way through the brush and tall vegetation to a group of trees and hedges, when I realized there was an argument brewing. I stood a minute or two wondering if I have the right bunch of folks. Yes, it must be. I decided when I heard one of the crew yell an equivalent of what sounded like "shut up!" at the rest and walked off. Boy, I wish I had my binoculars. I sighed as I strained my eyes; trying to figure out who was who and who was walking away?

It looked like Jesus, or at least most of the clothing was similar and I recognized the cloak. "Yeah OK... Kat-reen!" I shook my head as I realized that yes, this rather distressed individual had to be Him; _since it didn't seem likely that someone else would be wearing His clothes._

Well alright? I sighed once more as the question kept tripping through my mind. Peeps aren't you supposed be coming this way? I wondered as three others began to follow... _the guy who had on Jesus's clothes._ I must be missing something? I scratched my head as I looked at my wrist to check the time. Yeah right; no watch. I mumbled with a chuckle, while I headed toward the road.

I came out of the garden at an odd point, in which I scrambled up onto a large boulder. I stood looking out over the street below and the two groups of people who were getting further and further apart. It seemed apparent that the main group decided to leave the temperamental few to their own devices. I smiled as I folded my arms, stood and watched. Eight or nine of the disciples passed right under me; evidently headed for another path on the far end of this garden. As soon as they were far enough up the road; I hopped off my perch, headed down toward the street and hurried off and the other direction. Where was Jesus going? I wanted to know.

I followed first at some distance; only watching straight ahead, for I didn't want to spook these poor souls by the fact that they were being trailed by a Roman soldier. Not realizing that I was moving quite a bit faster than they; I soon drew the attention of John and Peter.

An armed Peter looked a little panicked as he reached for his sword only to be stopped by John before his hand actually got to his belt. I crossed the road to the other side, pretending I hadn't even noticed and was in a hurry to get someplace else. What a wrinkle in time that would create; if either Peter or I had killed the other. I thought to myself as I passed them, while they turned up another small pathway toward a foot bridge.

I kept walking as I could see a second path swoop off the road and back around toward the river. Thinking there must be another bridge and a second entrance into this place; I kept following the path I was on. _At least I hope there's another entrance?_ I paused a minute and glanced back over my shoulder toward the road. When I could not longer see or hear Peter and John, I turned to look.

Much to my surprise I could see several others coming down the road after us. I ran up next to the river and crouched down in the weeds by the bank. I watched as the second group entered the path. They were a rowdy bunch, with torches and lanterns and clanking metal weapons, yet; I was surprised that they really were few in number. I could tell by their clothing that they were also Jews; as I counted the men while they passed on the bridge right before me. They numbered only about five or six; when I suddenly realized who they were. It was Judas and his merry men!

I quickly jumped up and headed for the bridge. I followed these troublemakers up the pathway until it curved slightly; in which I ducked behind the nearest grove of shrubs. I held onto my dagger, distinctly telling myself that I had to control my temper. I really wanted to kill these bastard children of Satan, but I knew I couldn't. I didn't have the authority (or the power for that matter) to change the course of history.

No Roman soldiars? I suddenly realized as they continued on, while I cautiously followed. I crossed the pathway; stopped and stood next to one of these knotty trees, when I saw a single figure coming toward them. It was Jesus. I could hear the murmuring and chatter of the small mob grow silent as they stopped dead in their tracks, just staring at Him.

A short exchange of words began when several of those standing before Jesus shrunk back, as if trying to hide behind those in the rear; when they all suddenly fell on the ground like a stack of dominoes. The only one who remained standing in the wake of this wave of obvious judgment was... me!

I peered over at Jesus, who glanced up at this Roman soldier; still standing there next to the knotty tree while everyone else laid withering and squirming on the ground. I let out a little laugh as they reminded me of bugs that had just been hit by the spray from a Divine can of Raid.

Both Jesus and I looked at each other for a moment, when a few men laying in the path noticed to me. They didn't say anything, just stared at one another with expressions of worried bewilderment. How could this Roman gentile, heathen dog, not be condemned by a Jew who obviously had the power to take them all out with nothing but two little words - I AM.

Well, evidently; I AM had something in for them that he didn't have in for this Roman gentile, heathen dog standing here staring at their bad selves. This struck a familiar chord with me. The question of who truly is the real enemy? I had pondered this many 'ah time in my own life, as I thought about Desert Storm and even (in many respects) my own family. How true it always seemed to be, that your enemies you often find under your own roof. I let out a sigh as I tried not to think too long about this one.

Fortunately; I guess, I was distracted when I heard Jesus speak to those laying in the path between us. One of them replied, while attempting to stand. Jesus answered him as he struggled to his feet, when I suddenly saw a half a torso and arm with a sword on the end of it, swing out from behind Jesus. It took me a minute to realize this weapon wheeling figure was Peter; as his adversary turned his head and let out a scream.

With one full swoop, his ear came flying toward his companions as they all turned away and he stumbled around, evidently tripping over one of them. I glanced at the crew in the path and back at Jesus who was now standing between the two groups with his hand on Peter's chest to stop him from lopping off anymore ears. He gave Peter a brief but stern lecture before Peter backed off and went and stood with the other two disciples. I peered around the tree at them, of which I could only see the backs of their heads as they had inched their way around Jesus, standing watching Him; seeming a bit apprehensive over Peter's... brilliant move.

Jesus started pointing down the path as James and John cautiously stepped over these laying in the way and headed back out of this garden. Jesus grabbed Peter by the arm... _encouraging_ him to follow the others. Peter hesitantly obeyed as he stepped through the rather effectively subdue 'gangstas' and headed back down the path too. I backed around a tree as the three disciples past and then Jesus.

Jesus turned around; briefly pointed at me and then down through the trees back toward the road. I took that as the signal that He wanted me to leave too. I saluted Him, wondering if He recognized this soldier? He must have! I concluded as I watched the four of them exit the garden, while I slowly followed. Interestingly enough, I pondered as I came out of the road and waited until they were out of my sight; it didn't seem Peter, James or John ever noticed I was there.


	25. The Olive Press

**The Olive Press**

I tailed at some distance, for that seemed most prudent at the time; as the motley mob of confused and disorientated apostles entered yet another garden. This was the same place I'd left earlier! I realized, as I noted they were heading toward the cave I'd visited only an hour or so prior. Maybe I should have just stayed here? I chuckled as I simply followed everyone else into the shadowy opening, making as if I was just patrolling the area to ensure the peace.

It was rather dark and many clusters of people huddled for shelter from the cold. There were men, women, children and animals all hiding in this cavern. I realized as I casually strolled past them. No one seemed to pay much mind to me, so I figured they did not think my presence unusual. When I encountered another two soldiers headed the other direction; I recognized that patrolling such spaces was not uncommon. They hailed me as they passed and I saluted in return.

Lit torches and lanterns scattered the various locations; with barely enough light to actually see the goings on. Some stray folk had scampered in, hoping to escape the cold and I noted their getting comfortable, while my eyes searched for a certain group in particular; _whom I had seemed to lose in the crowd coming in_. More and more people filtered through, but it was difficult to determine at times, who they were or where they were going? In the middle of this grand dug out space, stood an olive press. A stout flat surface rose out of the floor, with a large tree limb protruding through a huge millstone. Several other wooden planks and rope rigging established the remainder of this apparatus, which obstructed my view of the rest of the cavern.

I scouted passed the press and into the many caves that housed vast amounts of clay pots, vats, utensils and the suchlike; all assembled for the purifying and bottling of oil. The further interior was also dimly lit and as I continued to walk deeper and deeper into it's recesses; I noticed that the crowds grew thinner and thinner. I finally came to a place where there was only a small spattering of folks lounging around, when I recognize a few of them.

Sitting there was Luke and Matthew, along with a few others; _(who'd managed yet to stay awake)_ all waiting together. I looked around briefly to see if I could find Jesus, John or Peter, but none of them were anywhere in sight. I decided to go 'disappear' some place, before anyone began to fret about my presence. I followed the narrow contours of the cave until I came to the very end, or at least the end that had no more lanterns. There I hopped behind a rock and sat down to rest.

I peered beyond this rock between two other tree limbs when I noticed the crew I'd been waiting on come in. How did I get here before they? I wondered as I watched several of my…. _tags_ ; immediately flop down, taking up residency against branches, limbs and a few boulders; _as well as each other._ I could hear voices engaged in worrisome conversation as I watched a few of the more frazzled folks trying to calm one another. Several more disciples were with them; when I suddenly figured out how I'd arrived hence the rest. They had obviously stopped to talk when they'd encountered the others.

It wasn't hard to spot who was who; even though they were still quite some distance and the light wasn't terrific. John stood quietly and listened attentively while Peter and James glared at each other with expressions of profound helplessness. Jesus on the other hand, was quickly deteriorating and I watched in shock as He plummeted into a full-blown panic attack.

Is that really the son of God Almighty? I seriously started to question as the other two tried to comfort Him. Jesus seemed so calm just twenty minutes prior, when I watched them all leaving the other garden! What all of a sudden happen to Him? I wondered and watched as He took a deep breath. It seemed as He was trying to compose Himself, as the others sat down with the indication that they would indeed wait for Him. Jesus paused a moment before He turned around and came walking toward me.

I began to panic for fear I was in the wrong place and about to be noticed; when Jesus suddenly collapsed on the ground. I winced as He hit the stone floor like a crushed olive branch. Suddenly this place made sense! A Gethsemane; an olive press! There's at least a few of them around the city. I'd noticed, when I was watching from my perch up in the rocks the first night upon my arrival. How odd this all was. Everything made sense, yet none of it seemed to fit; or at least fit how we in the 20th Century perceived it should.

It suddenly got extremely loud. I quickly froze and listened as I could first pick out the the winds howling wildly outside and eventually; I tuned into what I finally figured out was Jesus's breathing. I crept past part of the rock and peered around another tree limb, when I noticed He was laying prone, arms and legs spread eagle like a dead man stopped in his tracks.

This strange and eerie whine filled the air; only to be suddenly and periodically broken by a wail, before I realized it was coming from Jesus. I rarely heard a human being make such a noise. I crouched lower, pulling my arms up over my ears. In all irony, I thought to myself; He sounds like a wounded animal.

I picked up my head when I noticed the sobbing had subsided. Jesus was crawling around on His hands and knees in what looked like a drunken stupor, before He bumped into a stump. He pulled Himself up; holding onto a beam as He staggered back toward John and Peter. He paused for a moment and mumbled something before He came staggering back and fell on the ground again.

He was laying on one side, before rolling over and pulling His legs up under His body as the sobs began to escape. He stayed curled up in the fetal position for several minutes before the wails started again. I put my head on the ground and just waited. This is a rather sickening thing to witness. I cowered, as I came to question that maybe I should have just stayed at the house.

I never dreamed it would be like this? I mumbled as I thought of all the artists' paintings we'd inherited through out the ages. Those beautiful depictions of Jesus sitting serenely in the 'Garden of Gethsemane' with His hands folded, gazing at Heaven looking sort of…. Woodstock stoned! What an awful contrast the brutal truth is! I thought to myself as I realized that here is case in point where art does not imitate life, nor does life imitate art for that matter; but I guess that's the way it usually goes.

I recon I can sort of understand though? I confessed as I considered how there really is no way a drawing, painting, or even a photograph _(not that I would want to take a picture of this)_ could capture the true magnitude of what is going on. Even on the printed pages of a Bible; how do you capture the wrath of God? I concluded as I quietly hid behind my rock;. peering out from behind it, only when I could muster enough courage to look at what was happening.

The refugees in Iraq and all the desecration the war had brought suddenly came to mind; the numb little children, screaming women and terrified men. That's what Jesus reminded me of as I watched Him trying to control the shakes. He looked like an Iraqi POW with a bad case of shell shock. I found myself wiping away the tears when something suddenly clicked in me. _**This….**_ was not a movie; but real life! Why? I found myself pleading as I started to wonder if maybe the disciples had the right idea. After all, it's much easier to go to sleep then deal with this! I realized as I closed my eyes and tried to drown Him out.

I awoke to a swooping rush of wind and a blinding light! I scrambled to get behind my rock, crawling as far under as I could; praying I'd wake up from this nightmare. I could see the piercing light bleeding in from around the perimeter of this boulder and all I could think of was a headstone; as I wondered if I'd make it out of this alive? What is going on? I cried in terror for I could no longer hear Jesus's sobs; only screaming and what sounded like shrieks from… hell? Then suddenly - it was gone!

The silence was deafening, as I crawled out from under the rock in a semi-surreal daze. Is this a dream or what? I kept asking myself as I pulled my trembling body around the boulder I been hiding under. The ground felt oddly warm to me; like I was crawling across the cooling lava flow. Must be my imagination? I told myself, while I crept up to a figure I only half recognized laying on the ground.

Jesus was now silent and though His eyes were open and I could see Him breathing; He looked like He was dead! What happened to You? I wondered as I dared to get close enough to check if what I was seeing really were signs of life? I put my hand on His face and although His skin glistened white from shock, He was hot and wet like He'd just come out of a steam bath. He'd almost totally soaked through His clothing. I noticed, as I started to wonder if this was all sweat, or had He actually urinated on Himself? He gave no indication that He even noticed I was there.

He just laid perfectly still; breathing very slowly and only blinking on occasion. The eeriness of the whole thing was getting more and more unsettling for me, so I headed back to the rock. What an ironic symbolism? Hiding in a rock. I thought to myself as I stopped between the two tree limbs, turned around and sat down.

It must've been at least a good 10 minutes, for I could tell my legs had fallen asleep; _(just like everything else around here)_ when Jesus finally moved. He picked up His head and slowly got up. No more snuffles, no more tears, no crying; He made not a single noise - nothing! He only stood staring at the pitch blackness before He turned around and walked away. Whatever it was - it was now over and I couldn't say Jesus seemed more ready for the cross; for I could deduce there was a part of Him that had already been crucified!

Time seemed to stand still, as I could hear His voice talking to Peter, James and John; _although they were still not quite awake._ The commotion of a moving mass of humanity through the cavern told me Judas and his roomies must be here. I got up on one knee behind a tree limb and watched, as Jesus quietly stood waiting while the rest of the disciples began to awaken.

With a cheery "Hail"; Judas walked right up to Jesus and in a flagrant display of shrouded hatred that almost seemed vulgar; he kissed Him. I turned around and sat down as a deep sense of revulsion filled my soul. There was something shocking and all too familiar about this 'kiss of death'; yet I couldn't identify what exactly that was. Even though I knew this wasn't culturally out of context _(for I'd seen a few Arab men kiss each other back during the war)_ there was just something about it that seemed oddly pornographic to me.

I tried not to think too hard about it, when a pained howl suddenly rang through the air and I jumped. I looked up a minute as the High Priest's slave stomped around in a circle holding the side of his head. I really have become callous to violence and suffering. I realized as I sunk back down by the rock and let out one long sigh.

I sat alone with my own thoughts and a silence, only I seemed to notice; since the voices and commotion behind me grew faint. A part of me really wanted to do something, but I felt paralyzed by a force I couldn't identify. Oh yes I could move; _(for I squirmed around incessantly)_ I just couldn't get up. It felt like I had boulders chained to my limbs and the more effort I attempted to muster, the heavier they got. I finally gave up and lay down. Not knowing what else to do; I just waited, as I could feel the burning in my eyes once more and the wet lines that ran down my face.

Not really sure how much time had past? I finally got up and started walking around. I was working some feeling back into my legs and even though I tried not to think about it; Judas and his kiss kept coming back to me. I started to wonder why that bothered me so much; since I knew it was coming.

I sat and pondered this a while, when I felt an emotion I'd rarely felt creeping up on me - I was angry! It didn't seem fair. I tried to calmly explain to myself as I rehearsed all the things that had happened thus far, as well as all the things that were still to come.

What a crude use for affection; when it's not even affection, because affection means you actually care about that person and not just to satisfy your own lusts. My thoughts began to ramble. Don't take something that is supposed to be good and make it all dirty. A phrase from a Pat Benatar song suddenly popped into my head - stop using sex as a weapon; because - hell is for children.

I froze a moment; wiped my face and looked around, as I flirted with the possible reasons _that_ just suddenly came to mind? I've often wondered how all this could be connected? I sighed as I slowly made my way back toward the olive press. I guess being violated in such a personal way wreaks havoc on your spirituality; _and suddenly…. I knew Jesus understood that!_

I stopped for a moment, frozen in my own terror as I looked down at the sword and dagger hanging from my belt. God help us. The timid prayer lay wordless, somewhere back in the recesses of my mind.

I took a few steps out of the cave and started straightening my self, to finally walk out of this place. It was time to go back to the house and even though (in the back of my head) I was always wondering what was happening to Jesus; I knew I didn't have the energy to go find out. I felt very depressed and extremely helpless. I realized, as I stepped out into the night. Even with all the implements of war; both ancient and modern (I grimaced in pain as I re-tied the sword back onto the belt); I feel so powerless.

I walked back toward the house at a slow and steady, yet stern pace. I was still a soldier; until I got back home, polish my battle gear and put my civvies on. What a welcome thing that will be. I thought as I kept on target, house in mind and maybe even some sleep? It was a long, arduous journey and I soon realized in the fog of war; I had gotten lost on the field of battle.

I did my best not to panic, as I tried to get my bearings and figure out where I was. I turned around to looked behind me, to try and get my orientation from wherever the city wall was; when I heard a familiar voice.

"Kat-reen?" It called. "Kat-reen!"

I know that voice. I realized as I swung around and saw a soldier running toward me. It was Horatio.


	26. Hence the Cock Crows

**Hence the Cock Crows**

With new found relief that at least I wasn't still….. lost; I followed Horatio as he ran through the streets whistling. A whooping response told him which way to go and we followed the whoops till we found Cornelius and another soldier galloping toward us on horseback.

[God speed sir.] Horatio saluted Cornelius

[Uti! Go tell Ignatius we found her!] Cornelius called to the other horseman, waving him away before he turned back toward Horatio. [How is she?]

[She evaded the Sanhedrin's guard. Her military trained her well!]

[Good! Take her to the prison house and wait for us. I have to talk to Pilate.]

[Are you claiming the next watch, before the cock crows?]

[Yes. Pompillius's cohort is assigned to the next watch.]

[Ohhh! The Sodomites!]

[Yeah….. the sodomites!]

[I hope Pilate's not in a bad mood.]

[No, he's scared. His wife sent him one messenger already.]

[So, you don't think there will be any problem giving us the watch?]

[No. Besides; I out rank Pompillius. Even if Jesus is convinced we're going to crucify him in the morning; at least I can spare him being raped all night long.]

[Not on my watch sir.]

[You're a good soldier Horatio. My best Tesserarius.] Cornelius raised his hand. [Tell Artibus of the prisoner we will have coming and to post her in the cell with him. Then go get Bomani the eunuch.]

[Yes sir.]

Come; Horatio motioned to me before he turned again to Cornelius.

[Wait sir.] Horatio called. [What about the prison keys?]

Cornelius jingled a large ring clipped to his horse's saddle.

[Can't take the prison house watch without 'em!] Horatio laughed.

I followed Horatio through the streets, up the steps and into Herod's south gate of the temple's the Court of the Gentiles. From there we transverse the court, around the temple complex, through Solomon's porch and around to Herod's north gate. From there we passed through another court yard to the Antonia Fortress's south gate. Horatio grabbed a short wooden log that sat in a basin next to the entrance. He lit it off the torch on the wall and ascended the steps.

Well, I finally get to see the inside of this thing! I grinned excitedly.

I followed Horatio across another court yard / parade ground, into another complex, which was a series of buildings connected together. We hurried through several corridors into what looked to me, to be a soldier barracks. Several men greeted Horatio with surprised looks and shouts of good cheer. He set his torch in a holder on the wall as he paused at a stone fire pit; where he absconded with some of their stew and a chunk of bread. He handed the food to me.

[Here; it's going to be a long night.] He gestured as I took up a wooden bench next to a couple other soldiers who were sitting at a table.

[Got a new recruit?]

[Soldier on loan from a far off legion. Don't bother; he won't understand you.]

[Where's he from?]

[A Britannian outpost…. somewhere across the greater sea.] Horatio mumbled. [Aint quite figured out where yet?]

[Hey Anthony! You know where Bomani is?]

[I think they sent him with the Sanhedrin's guard sir?]

[Yes sir, we heard they arrested that Jesus of Nazareth.]

[The one they call the Christ?]

[Depends on who you ask.]

[I hear they want to kill him.]

[Yes, he told me himself that he will be crucified.]

[Crucified? By who?]

[Us.]

[Us? We talking about the guy who supposedly heals people and raises the dead; right?]

[He'd be handy in the north country.]

[Yeah, maybe we ought to abduct him. Crucify that Barabbas guy. They'd never know the difference.]

[Didn't Caesar pass a decree against abducting Jewish messiahs?]

The soldiers laughed.

[I like this one though. He pisses off Pharisees and it's funny to watch.]

[Legionnaire entertainment this week. It's Passover guys; let's all go down to the temple and watch this Yashuah dude piss off all those butt lickin' …. .]

[Ayyy - Watch your mouth. You corruptin' my morals.]

[Morals?]

[You think he's probably one of 'em too?]

[No man, you see some of the chicks that follow this dude around? Hot babes and got money too!]

[Yo hot on their messiah….]

[No, M,M, capital M - Messiah. This dude is like Yahweh. Ya know; their monotheistic God!]

[And you think they doin Him? Ooooh man, he aint even that pretty.]

[That's probably why he's their Messiah.]

[Because what…. you think the dude's a eunuch?]

[If he is; I'll be their Messiah.]

[That's probably why you _**aint**_ their Messiah.]

[But hey, if you could raise the dead you'd be their Messiah.]

[You raise the dead; you'd be _**my**_ Messiah.]

One soldier started making kissy noises at the other; who just shoved him off the bench onto the floor. The rest laughed.

[Othello, You were there when he threw all the merchants out of the temple; weren't you?]

[Yeah man! That was a riot. I wanted to help. Our good Tesserarius over here though told me "NO!"]

[Sorry I spoiled your fun.]

[Well, Ehhh they done there… pissed off their Messiah. For a guy who's usually so calm…. Now _**that**_ was entertaining!]

[Don't think your enjoyment was his intent. He made his point though. They're crooks.]

[Hey! They all a bunch of knuckin' fut jobs; if you ask me.]

[Shut up Maximus. We did't ask you.]

The soldiers laughed.

[Is it true? Did they really arrest him?]

[Yes, although he is not in our custody…. yet.]

[Where is he?]

[His own religious leaders took him.]

[Is that why they came and took Bomani?]

[They have Felix, Claud, and Kumbi too. Archaleous the Tesserarius of the last watch authorized it.]

[Yes, I know. He went with them to the arrest. They bribed him. He's not part of our cohort, but we can take our own men from this watch back!]

[So, why in the middle of the night? Why not two days ago when his butt was sittin' in their precious temple?]

[They're Cowards!]

[Well, that's not news to me.]

[So… who'll be assigned to _**that**_ execution squad?]

[Pilate wants to let him go.]

[What? Pilate? You mean 'kill ya and eat you for breakfast' Pilate? He feeling alright?]

[No, he's scared of a riot;….. but he's more afraid of the Hebrew God. He's already made up his mind. He wants to let Jesus go.]

[Sir… are you shittin us?]

[No I'm not.]

[Well, in a couple of hours it won't be our concern though; will it sir?]

[Yes it will.]

[What? Did the prison house captain stick you again…. Sir?]

[No Cornelius is taking the watch.]

[What? The big guy?… While I'll be; coming down from the big guy? Ay!]

[He either really likes this Jesus….]

[Or wants to crucify him!]

[Yes and no. Pompillius's cohort is assigned the next watch.]

[OHHHHHHHHHHH!]

The soldiers all got loud before they started pounding their feet on the floor and burst into song.

 **We the cohort from Pompeii…we no fight no wars no way;**

 **Jerusalem we love the bash…. Jew me, do me, give me the lash;**

 **Flog me, hog me out side the gate….crucifixions taste just great;**

[Alright enough already!] Horatio yells.

 **Anus the high priest got the stash… stick your woo hoo up his ash!**

Horatio shook his head while I was trying not to laugh. I had no idea what they were saying; but having been in an army too, I'm sure…. again; not much has changed in 2000 years.

[Are you guys done?]

[Ya 'all so stupid!]

[I still have to retrieve our men.] Horatio mumbled as he glanced at me to see if I was done eating. [Anthony, come on.] Horatio motioned as he took up his torch and pointed to a soldier, who got up and followed us.

The next place we stopped was some sort of armory. There were spears, shields, swords, daggers, bows, arrows and a whole bunch of other contraptions I didn't recognize. Horatio handed one spear to me and another to the other soldier. Come. He motioned.

We hurried in the direction we'd come; descended the stairs, back through the parade ground, south Antonia gate, north Herod's gate; except this time we headed west across the court of the gentiles. From there we came up on the back side of the temple, through a set of western gates into a type of Plaza off the south western end of the temple. Just as we were approaching what I assumed to be the palace of the high priest, a trumpet blast pierced my ears. I hit the deck as the soldier behind me stopped and looked down.

[Captain?] He called out.

Horatio swung around; just as I was getting up.

"No, I'm OK." I tried to reassure all _(but mostly myself)_ that I would be fine. "Noise" I covered my ears. "Wars in my century are very noisy." I glanced at the two men as I tried to catch my breath. They only looked at each other and shrugged.

We weren't but a moment of reorienting ourselves when a ruckus erupted from the direction we were going. Finger pointing, yelling and cursing ensued when a man came running in our direction; chased by a few others.

"That's Peter." I yelled as I took off toward him. Horatio and Anthony followed as Peter darted between us and I intercepted the fellow who'd been right on his heels. Horatio jumped at the second.

" **DON'T GIVE ME A REASON TO KILL YOU!"** I yelled thrusting my spear in his face.

He threw his hands up in the air in wild eyed surprise at this crazy legionnaire who was looking for some blood right about now. He turned on his heals and beat a speedy retreat back in the direction he came; trailing the other two who were already half way to the palace. Horatio gave me a dumbfounded stare.

"Kafir!" I said. Horatio flashed a peculiar look and than nodded in recognition.

"Kafir." He chuckled as he cocked his head and nodded. [Yeah, there's a lot of them…. infidels around here.]

 _The second trumpet blasted._

[Come.] Horatio gestured as we continued on our quest to find Bomani and the rest.

We ascended half a set of stairs into a hall where a multitude was gathered billowing boisterously at one who stood in the center of this pack of wolves.

[Men and brothers, doctors of the law; this is not just!] An older man was trying to calm the assembly.

[Nicodemus!…] Another yelled; but…. suddenly upon our entrance, he had nothing to say.

In the center of the hall… stood a figure….. with his hands tied behind him…. and a grain sack over his head.

Instantly triggered by this image I recognized back from the war, I walked up and cut him loose. The rope hit the stone floor with a heavy thud. When I pulled the 'blindfold' off, I could see a face that was… _already_ barely recognizable.

 _And they got another three hours to do this to You?_ I looked at Him and then around the assembly, before I picked up the rope and walked over to the most important looking one of the bunch. He quickly got up and cowered behind his…. throne. I swung the rope behind me in preparation to knock him upside his turncoat head.

"Tru-lee…."

A voice rung out from behind me. I swung around.

"Son.. of man…"

He labored to speak.

"go as…. was… determine"

" **But woe unto that man by whom the offense comes!"** I yelled as I turned around and spit at Caiaphas; doing all I could to control myself before I dropped the rope on the floor and walked away.

Horatio flashed me a shocked look as he called his men to him. A panicked man ran toward us.

[But Captain. We were promised a guard!]

 **[You mercilessly beat a defenseless man.]** Horatio bellowed angrily. **[You don't need a guard!]**

We exited the hall as two men came running behind us.

[Captain sir, can you do something? This is a travesty!]

[I can't help you.]

[But we have no authority to kill this man. He's done nothing wrong.]

[Take it before Pilate.]

[But they want him crucified.]

[Well, if you don't take it before Pilate.] Horatio swung around. [Pilate is going to crucify **you**! _**ALL**_ **of you!** …. Besides, it's _**your**_ Messiah in there - who's saying this is part of the plan!]

Horatio paused a moment.

[And you call _**us**_ barbarians!]

[I'm sorry sir.]

Just than another Pharisee came running toward us from the other direction; across the temple court yard.

[Did they arrest the blasphemer?]

[Saul! This is none of your concern. Go back home.]

I stopped dead and turned around as I looked at this man. I think I recognize you? I mumbled to myself as I walked up to the three of them.

"Saul of Tarsus, Nicodemus and… Joseph of Arimathia." I point to each of them respectively.

[How do you know us?] Nicodemus asked in astonished awe.

"It _**was**_ you!" I turned back to Saul. "You're the one I punked Tuesday afternoon when you grabbed my scarf!" I burst out laughing. "Well, I'm gonna punk you again, because your a snot faced little weasel right now!" I announced as I handed my spear to another soldier and pushed…. Paul down. The three of them only glared as I stood there giggling; before I turned to the other two.

"YE-shu'a Ha Mashiach!"

[How do Roman soldiers know this?] Joseph whispered to Nicodemus.

[I don't know?] Nicodemus whispered back.

[Come.] Horatio whacked me on the arm as the other soldier handed me back my spear and we were off again.


	27. Judgement Pending

**Judgement Pending**

Somewhere in what seemed like an eternity; finally came Cornelius to the prison house with word for Horatio. I wasn't sure how long we'd been there, but it was still dark and it hadn't seemed like the cock had crowed too far past the hour. It was kind of hard to tell though, as time all seemed to bleed together.

[Horatio! There you are.]

[Yes, sir!]

[They finally brought Jesus in. I guess your little speech about Pilate crucifying all of them if they killed this man - worked!]

[Well, I'm sure her spitting on Caiaphus and the fact that the Roman guard they'd obtained was illegal, didn't encourage their further rebellion against Rome.]

[Yeah, I'd heard about that.] Cornelius gaffed.

[So where is he sir?]

[You're about to go get him. He's over in the judgement hall. Pilate's pacing circles around him. But at least those idiot bastards have shut up! God they annoy me!]

[They annoy half the people between here and Caesar's palace sir.]

[I wish Tiberius would just let us do our jobs. We'd take care of this.]

[Well sir, Jesus did say it's coming.]

[Yeah, when armies surround Jerusalem flee from the city. Bomani told me what happened in the temple when he reported to my house Tuesday; after you and Helina took her to the exchange.]

[What'd he say sir?]

[Armies! ... We're not talking a couple of cohorts, we're talking legions!]

[Legions sir; more than just the 10th here in Antonia?]

[Yes, Bomani assured me that it was pretty clear Jesus said armies; meaning more than one. And that this generation would still be alive when these things came to pass.]

[Well, I've always said we are living in interesting times sir.]

[Yes, I was talking to Ignatius earlier and he said she kept referring to this area as Palestine.]

[Palestine? You mean the migrants from Alexander's Empire who eventually crossed clear over to Persia? They take this land?]

[Well, we apparently give it to them. Ignatius told me that she'd said we... are the ones who name it Palestine.]

[Well, there are plenty of Greeks around; that's for sure.]

[Yeah, that was their major objection to Herod back in the days of Julius. The Jews hate the Greeks.]

[You mean the Greeks who are actually civilized. The ones who brought them Roman aqueducts and sanitation.]

[And the one's who built them that big... ah, temple. You mean those Greeks?]

[Yes sir those Greeks.]

[Those damn Greeks!]

[And they complain about Caesar's standard; because it's 'over the temple'.]

Cornelius flashed Horatio a smirk.

[Antonia is a Roman military installation!] He shook his head. [I'll take Caesar's flag and stick it... up their big ah, temple!]

They both laughed.

[You better get going before Pilate wears a hole in the Praetorium's floor.]

[Yes sir.] Horatio answered as he motioned to Bomani and I that it was time to go.

We left the jail house and headed across the plaza to the Praetorium. After ascending several flights of stairs; I got my first gander at Pontius Pilate. _I thought he'd be taller._ I snickered silently as Bomani and I stood at attention while Horatio saluted the governor.

They exchanged a few words.

Pilate looked disturbed _as well as greatly annoyed_ ; while rubbing his face and flashing glares back and forth between the Sanhedrin and Jesus. 'And he'd noted that they brought Jesus before him on account of their envy.' The verse stuck in my mind as it seemed all to obvious to _me..._ that this was not lost on Pilate. Well I guess there are no flies on you now are there? I watched Pilate as I tried not to giggle.

[Take him!] Pilate flipped his hand in the air at Horatio.

[Come.] Horatio muttered as he walked up to Jesus. [You who is called... **_CHRIST!_** ] He sneered at the Sanhedrin, while he grabbed Jesus's cloak sleeve and gave him an unceremonious shove.

They came walking toward us as Jesus shot Horatio an... apocalyptic scowl. Horatio just smirked as they passed.

 **[Get out of here!]** Pilate growled at the priests and Pharisees as he flashed a gesture that looked like he was 'flipping them the bird'; but they refused and begun to rouse a greater ruckus. I watched Pilate throw himself into the judgement seat, lending half an ear; _as well as half assed replies,_ while he was more preoccupied with watching us leave.

When Bomani turned, I followed suit as we exited the Praetorium, down the stairs and across the plaza back to the prison house.

Horatio cut off the ropes before he escorted Jesus into the only empty cell, as he posted me to guard Him. Jesus collapsed onto the stone floor and just lay there lifeless. Horatio paused a moment as he just stared curiously at Jesus. He retrieved the nearest torch from the wall and bent down to inspect Jesus's legs. I peered over at Horatio's discovery. Jesus was all black and blue. Horatio plucked up the hem of His tunic and peered underneath.

[Ehhh...] He grimaced as he stood up and looked at me. [Apparently they... kicked him in his kingdom a couple of times.] Horatio shook his head as he reposted his torch, exited the cell and angrily slammed the door behind him.

"Qayid aljaysh" I called to Horatio. He turned around. "Ma'an." I requested.

Horatio nodded in acquiescence, let out a sigh and retrieved a mug of water from the watch station. He trudged back over and shoved it through the bars into my hands.

"Shukran" I nodded, but Horatio didn't respond.

I waited while Horatio took Bomani outside at the beckon of Cornelius who seemed to be arguing another round with this crazy mob of Sanhedrin fools. How'd they even get in here? I found curious. _Well apparently Rome does not secure their military bases in like matter as the United States does 2000 years later. But than again, I guess suicide bombers are a little hard to come by in a day when gun powder hasn't even been invented yet._ I snickered to myself. Either way, dawn was speeding toward us and it seemed something else was about to go down?

I took a gulp of water as I leaned over and peered as far as I could past the bars. The prisoner across from us was either asleep... _or dead;_ and no other soldiers seemed to be in the immediate vicinity.

I took a step toward Jesus as I quietly laid the spear on the floor pointing toward the opposite wall; though easily within reach if I needed to retrieve it in a hurry. I grabbed Jesus by the collar and pulled Him into a sitting position. He was barely conscious, as I nearly had to force Him to drink the water before He realized what was going on. He propped Himself up on one hand as He peered bleary eyed at me. Do I recognize you? He seemed confused. He finished the water and mumbled what sounded like 'Thank You Abba' before He flopped back over, closed His eyes and appeared to go to sleep.

I quickly stood up when Horatio and Bomani returned. Horatio fiddled with the keys as he mumbled instructions to Bomani. Once he'd managed to wrestle the cell gate open. Bomani stepped inside and gestured that I should help him. We sat Jesus up, each grabbing Him by an arm as we hoisted Him to His feet. He opened His eyes in a hurried panic. Yeah, I'm awake... where we going? He searched the lot of us.

We'd dragged Him back outside to the mob of raging Pharisaic lunatics; before He'd managed to straiten Himself and determinately set pace behind Horatio across the plaza back toward the temple mount. I guess we are going to see Herod now? I concluded as Bomani and I tailed Jesus, while a mob of annoying Sanhedrin began to collect, fluttering along behind us. They reminded me of moths hovering around a bug zapper. I snickered as I found myself relishing in thoughts of 70 AD; when they'll finally get what's comin' to 'em!

So we walked half way across Antonia, back through the two gates toward the western side of the court of the gentiles. We descended one more flight of stairs, just behind the temple into the same mall area we'd been; near the high priest's palace. Herod's was on the other end, with several 'apartment' type looking residences between.

[One more unlawful trial?] Horatio muttered as he glanced back at Jesus.

[It was for this hour I've came.]

[This hour... in the middle of the friggin night? Isn't this suppose to happen in the court of the Sanhedrin, right there next to your holy of holies... so God can watch? _Instead of the basement of some prick's, I mean priest's... recreation hall?]_

Horatio glared as the naysayers suddenly grew silent.

[Nothing is hidden that won't be made known.]

[You know Pilate wants to let you go; don't you?]

[Yes, signs in the heavens and on the earth; the distress of nations, with mysterious confounding.]

[What?] Horatio raised an eyebrow.

[Why is Pilate suddenly fair?]

[You asking... _me?_ ] Horatio shot Jesus a glare.

[No. It's part of the confounding mystery; the distress of nations.]

[Well, I'm confounded.] Horatio smirked. [Over whatever the flip it was you just said? I will tell you this though; I'd like to put some distress on those idiot pharisees.]

[Let vengeance be God's]

[Let me send 'em His way!]

[This is their hour.]

[One, just one.] Horatio pleaded. [The fat cowardly priest who's so busy kissin' ass, his nose is brown.]

[This generation will see their own destruction.]

[Be glad to kick that off for 'em!]

[But you follow orders.]

[Yeah I do.] Horatio sighed.

[You are a law unto yourself Horatio.]

[What?]

[When the gentiles who have not the law, yet still follow it.]

[Well see this law!] Horatio pointed to his foot as he paused at the steps of Herod's palace. [You know where I'd love to sink it?]

[The wrath of man does not accomplish the righteousness of God.]

Horatio flashed Jesus a scowl.

[We suppose to crucify you in the morning. So... shut up.] He growled as he gave Jesus a bit of a shove up the stairs.

Herod was apparently waiting eagerly as he greeted Jesus with a cheery hail; but made a funny face when Jesus got close enough to get a good look at Him. Herod tried to ignore the bruises and began to chatter, but Jesus said nothing. Herod even tried a couple of different approaches; I'll be nice. I'll yell. I'll threaten Him. Jesus didn't say a word. He only stood and watched Herod. Herod grew all the more anxious as Jesus simply would not respond. Finally Herod called his private guard to him.

Bomani and I only waited behind Horatio, as Herod's men ripped Jesus's clothes off, while Herod handed them an old tattered 'kingly' garment. They threw it over Jesus's head and continued their beatings and mocking escapades when I noticed Cornelius coming toward us.

[Do we have orders to take him back sir?]

[Not until Herod releases him again to our custody.] Cornelius answered before he walked over to have a word with Herod.

Apparently what ever Cornelius said worked; for Herod quickly put an end to their games and ordered Jesus back to Pilate.

Horatio instructed Bomani to retrieve Jesus's clothing. I hurried along to help, before we transversed the plaza, back up the stairs and embarked upon our 10 minute return to the Praetorium. Pilate was waiting, as I noticed crowds were beginning to gather. We ascended the stairs back into the judgment hall while the Sanhedrin's mob of useful idiots was apparently swelling to ever increasingly difficult to contain numbers.

 _Again, you let these people in here? Dudes, you gotta secure your military bases better!_

Horatio sent us back to the prison house with Jesus's clothing; for it seemed likely to him, that'd be the next place we'd be returning to. I folded and Bomani stacked the items at the watch station before he motioned that we should return to Pilate. As we ascended the steps back into the Praetorium; apparently Cornelius had some bad news for Horatio. They awaited our return, now joined by several other soldiers, as Cornelius was giving instructions.

[Sebastian you're assigned to the whip, because you're the most judiciously disciplined executioner in this entire Legion. The governor made it very clear to me; this is a unique case and we are handling it by their laws.]

[Thank you sir. What are their laws?]

[Flog him in accordance to what their Torah says; justice as defined by their God. Augustus Caesar started a tradition many years ago, of not intentionally offending anyone's deity. He didn't want to adversely affect the empire's strength; and this is Pontius Pilate's justification for his current course of action.]

[Yes sir.]

[40 lashes and no more. Traditionally 39, in case they've accidentally miscounted. Also tradition says to use a whip made of calf leather. So if you were going to use the three length chastise flagrum, as opposed to the whip; that would be 13 strikes.]

[Yet the other criminals remain standard procedure; even if they are Jews? Is that correct sir?]

[Yes, Pilate's intent is to let Jesus go; so hopefully a chastisement, according to their own laws... will satisfy them. But if it does come down to crucifying him, squad two will be on detail to assist; but it will be your call to collect which ever 3 other executioners you want. I will be supervising and reporting the deaths.]

[Yes sir.]

The ruckus from the other side of the judgement hall grew more unruly as Cornelius and Horatio glanced across the pass.

[This is going to be one hell of a day. Pilate has assigned half the legion to cover the city; especially the route to Golgotha. I have to go find Pompillius.]

[Think I saw him in Herod's place sir.]

[Really? Well, that's enlightening. What was he doing there... Herod?] Cornelius muttered.

[Wouldn't surprise me sir.] Horatio answered without missing a beat.

The soldiers snickered.

 **[Centurion!]** Pilate's voice rang out from across the expanse.

 **[Yes governor!]** Cornelius responded as he quickly turned, jogging up to Pilate.

[Looks like that's our cue men.] Horatio sucked in a deep breath.


	28. Monty Mocking

**Monty Mocking**

We escorted Jesus back down the steps, although this time we turned in the opposite direction toward the plaza on the other side of the Praetorium. Adjacent to this was a location of the Praetorium building Horatio referred to as the common hall. Several soldiers began to file out from beneath the shelter of its columns into the pavement where there sat perched near the middle, a wooden stump protruding from the cobblestone about 3 feet up. Attached to this stump was a pair of shackles. It suddenly dawned on me what this place was, as well as what would happen next.

I can't watch this. I slowed as a sudden wave of absolute panicked terror over took me. Bomani stopped just as I swung around and nearly vomited all over him. I coughed and sputtered as he grabbed me by the arm to steady me. Other solders walked around us, lending wary glares. I stood hunched over as waves of vertigo began to assail me and I started to pray that I wouldn't pass out.

[Bomani. Antonio]

I could hear a voice calling as Bomani and another soldier escorted me out of the plaza. I'd stopped and vomited two more times before they managed to rustle me into the common hall and drop me onto a bench. I sat with my head between my knees, trying to catch my breath. I really wanted to scream, but the last thing I wanted, was for them to see me cry.

The whip began to snap and I winced with every cry wrenched from Jesus. The present and past bled together as boisterous crowds, screams and machine gun fire from my memory congealed into one tangle of time warped history. Airplanes roared and missiles whistled while I deliberately stared intently at the stone patterns on the floor; as well as the feet of the other two soldiers.

Once Desert Storm subsided, all seemed eerily quiet. I took one last deep breath as I picked my head up and stared out between the columns at Jesus who lay lifeless with His head tucked between one arm and the stump He was fastened to. He huddled in nearly a fetal position as the soldier continued to count the lashes he was snapping. It was eerily quiet as a larger band slowly collected to witness the flogging of this naked form huddled against the wooden post.

The chastisement ended and they all stood and starred. The soldier who held the whip reached out and nudged Jesus with its stick end. When He began to twitch and finally picked His head up, they all started to whisper. The executioner and one other soldier grabbed Jesus by the arms and pulled Him to His feet. When He remained standing unassisted; they all began to hoot, laugh and cheer.

When other Jews, civilians and Pharisees began to filter over; the soldiers quickly wrapped this Herodian robe about Jesus, loosed Him and begun dragging Him in my direction.

They entered the far end of the hall as other soldiers began to filter over; just for curiosity sake, it seemed at first. Yet also apparently to discourage the participation of those whom they didn't want crashing their party.

Jesus stumbled as they dragged Him up the steps, but after they let go and He still managed to stand independently; they cheered again.

[Hail, king of the …. Joooooozzz!] One bellowed as the others laughed.

[Hey at least he aint laying… like dead on the floor.]

[Bleeding all over the damn place.]

[Not yet!]

[See how long that lasts?]

Another soldier slinked up and gave Jesus a teasing polk.

[Hey, where's that little twerpy Pharisee. Let's flog him next!]

[He'd probably cry like a baby.]

[That would be entertaining to watch.]

[Hey, their king needs a crown.] Someone yelled from the back.

[And some new clothes would be an improvement too!] Another replied, as he pulled the tattered Herodian garment off.

[Damn, what'd they do to him?]

[They 'paintin' him purple. So he don't need a robe.]

[He needs something man; I don't wanna be standing here staring at his sorry ass.]

[Doesn't do anything for ya. Ay?]

[What?]

[What? Jew butt.]

[No, Please! Put something on him!]

[Well then go get something…. dumb ass!]

[Yeah, make him all pretty so we can present him back to his people.]

[The adoring crowds are out there cheering. Can't ya hear 'em?]

[Here!] A soldier came walking up with what looked like a horse blanket.

[That's nasty!]

[These people are nasty, so we just give 'em back a nasty lookin' king. What the hell? Right?]

The soldier yelled at the guy behind him as he attempted to drape this 'robe' around Jesus's shoulders. It kept sliding off and falling to the floor.

[Yo king, keep yer clothes on.] He giggled as he slapped Jesus in jest. He picked up the 'garment' and attempted one last 'ol college try; before he gave up and threw it over Jesus's head.

[There perfect!]

[Dude, you covering the wrong end!]

[You wanna come dress the king?]

[Do a better job than you.] The second soldier commented as he came walking up. [Yo momma never made you diaper babies did she?]

[Leave my momma out of this!]

[Here, we give him a toga.] The soldier mumbled as he strung the 'robe' under one arm and tied it best he could at the shoulder

[Toga, Toga, Toga] They all started chanting.

[Not exactly Caesar, but… what do you want….]

[He's a Joooooowwww! Hail king of the Joooozzz!] The soldier began to bow.

[Shut up before I Jew you.]

[Come on Jew me!] The soldier exclaimed as he spun around and mooned them; while his buddy came running to 'Jew' his shoe…. up the wazoo.

[He needs a crown now.] Another yelled. [Go find him a crown.]

[How about a tiara?]

[You _**are**_ a dumb ass!]

[Alright, alright. I got ya covered here; since we doin the rustic king thing.] A third soldier muttered as he strolled over with a thorny briar he was trying to fasten into a circle. He gingerly placed it on Jesus's head. [We doin the crown or the tiara?] He turned to the rest as he made adjustments according to the hoots and cheers.

[He needs a scepter!]

[There's a reed over there.] The soldier with the crown pointed before he exclaimed: [Ouch! His crown just bit me!]

[Bad crown!] Another yelled as he came running up, grabbed the reed from the second soldier and started whacking Jesus over the head. Jesus raised His arms in an attempt to protect His face as blood began to ooze from His scalp.

[Yo! Be gentle.] The first soldier protested as he snatched the reed away. [You messin' up their king!]

[Their king already messed up!]

[Yeah, they messed him up.]

[Let's go mess them up.]

[I'm there!]

[Now now boys; this how you treat a king.] The soldier stated as he picked up Jesus's hand and curled His fingers around the reed. [There. He looks regal…. for a Jew at least.]

[Hail king of the Jooooozzz! Hail king of the Joooozzz.] They started bowing.

[Oowwwmmmm] One of the soldiers folded his hands and commenced a rather loud mantra.

[He's not Buddha you dumb ass!] The other protested as he grabbed the reed from Jesus and whacked his friend with it.

[Hey! I'm not the king!] He objected as he snatched the reed back

[You got that damn strait.]

[Anoint the king.] He announced as he began whacking Jesus with the reed, before he threw it on the floor and started slapping His face. [Come on king, wake up. You got speeches to give your loyal subjects.]

[No, no, no.] Another protested as he came walking over. [He all dirty. They're king needs a good cleaning up.] He declared as he spit into his hands, rubbed them together and commenced to 'clean' Jesus's face.

[No, he aint clean enough.] The other interrupted. [Ya need more.] He states as he leans over, sticks out his tongue and delivers a good dose of raspberries.

I cringed as I instinctively wiped my own face and tried not to laugh. Another thing I wasn't expecting. This is starting to look like a Monty Python skit. Jesus did nothing but close His eyes and turn away as they continued to….. 'clean' the king.

[You so nasty.]

[No, this would be nasty!] The soldier stuck his tongue out in mock attempt to lick Jesus when his buddy gave him a shove.

[You heathen dog - you!]

The soldier fell on the floor next to Jesus.

[Please don't sniff his butt; that aint something I need to see!]

Someone else chortles as the soldier jumps up and shoves him.

[I got standards you know.]

[Jew kisses aint one of them.]

[Now _**that**_ _is_ gross! Shut up!] One soldier jabbed his finger at the other.

[Like that Judas dude. Ay, is he from Galilee too?]

[Nope, south side of the land of the Francs… from what I heard.]

The soldiers laughed.

[Ewww! _**That**_ _is_ disgusting.]

[No matter, the dude's dead now.]

[What?]

[He hung himself this morning. Guilty conscience; I betrayed an innocent man!]

[You shittin us?]

[Would I shit you?]

 _No comment._

[Next question?] One soldier turned to the other as he pointed at Jesus. [He say that was gonna happen?]

[Got me? He says a lot of things are gonna happen.]

[Yeah, maybe you better be nicer to their king?] Another laughed.

[Is it gonna matter. I hear he keeps saying we gonna crucify him.]

[Yeah, then he say he's coming back from the dead….]

[And he gonna Jew you! You nasty heathen dog.]

[I sorry king.] The soldier giggled a bit nervously as he put his arm around Jesus, knuckled His shoulder and patted the side of His face.

[Give their king a good brotherly smack down!] Someone hollered as all the soldiers in the near vicinity commenced their version of 'affectionate' camaraderie.

 **[Alright. Alright!]** A familiar voice rang through the air as Cornelius entered the hall.

[What are you doing to him?]

The soldiers all paused as they pull Jesus up off the floor.

[Anthony was over here apologizing sir.]

[Well, your fun is over. Pilate wants him back.] Cornelius motioned as Horatio walked over and took Jesus from them.

The 'parade' across the grounds was… enlightening, to say the least. Jesus lead the way, arrayed in His royal blanket and briar crown walking independent and freely unbound strait toward Pilate's judgement hall; followed by half a cohort of armed Roman soldiers all ordered by rank.

 _Intriguing indeed._

The angry mob's jeers … if but for a brief second; grew silent.


	29. Judgement Past

**Judgement Passed**

I followed Jesus's bloody footprints up the steps of the Praetorium into the judgement hall. Pilate came walking over from the other side of the corridor, wearing a deadpan expression of profound awe. He pointed at Jesus before flashing Cornelius a puzzled scowl.

[He is determined sir.]

Pilate stood before Jesus, arms folded with one hand on his face contemplating this figure before him. It seemed Jesus was like a cheap suit Pilate didn't know what to do with and no matter how hard he tried, couldn't pawn off on anyone else.

Pilate turned and walked across the other side of the hall and around a corner to where several of the Jewish leaders apparently had gathered. I could hear his aggravated voice growling at them. A few moments later, Pilate stuck his head back around the corner and motioned to Cornelius to bring Jesus. Jesus began walking toward them, while Cornelius and Horatio trailed. I too stepped around a couple of soldiers to follow. When Horatio signaled that this was OK, I hurried along behind him.

[Look, I'm presenting him to you, just so _**you**_ know; _**I….**_ have found _**no**_ fault with him!]

Pilate glanced behind him before he held an arm out in a half sarcastic shrug, as he gestured at Jesus.

[See! There he is!]

 **[Crucify him! Crucify him!]**

They all began to hysterically yell and whine like hired mourners at a B-movie Middle-Eastern funeral. Yikes! I mumbled to myself with one raised eyebrow. What the…. _hell?_

 **[Take him! Crucify him yourselves! I find NO fault in him!]**

 **[We have a law and by our law he aught to die.]**

 **[Yes, because he made himself the Son of God!]**

Pilate swung around and looked at Jesus. If any vulgar exclamation could epitomize the look on Pilate's face it would have been: OH FUCK!

Pilate let out a deep sigh as he composed himself before he strode past us and motioned to Jesus to follow him. They walked back around the corner into the judgement hall.

Pilate sucked in a deep breath, holding up his hands in profound indecision.

[ _Where….._ did you come from?]

Jesus didn't answer.

[You're not going to talk to me?] Pilate held his hands out. [Don't you know I have the authority to either crucify you, or let you go?]

[You could have no power against me at all; unless it was granted from above. So, those who've delivered me to you are guilty of the greater sin.]

Pilate let out a deep sigh as he stepped around Jesus and came walking toward us.

[Son of a bitch. Fuckin' A.] He muttered as he paused and looked at Cornelius. [Why I gotta be stuck out here with these raving idiots who wanna kill some guy because he says he's God? Well, what if he is?] Pilate growled at Cornelius. **[Why me?]** He raged and then stormed off.

The three of us just peered at each other….. and than at Jesus.

Jesus returned our gaze, glanced up toward heaven and let out a sigh.

An argument was ensuing on the other side of the wall as the leaders of Jesus's own nation ranted all the louder.

 **[If you let this man go, you are not Caesar's friend. Who ever makes himself a king, speaks against Caesar!]**

 _Nanny ninny na na nih nah nih! I thought to myself._

 **[Crucify him! Crucify him! Crucify him!]** They chanted.

Pilate briefly ran back in, swiped the spear I was holding while Cornelius and Horatio ran to assist in clearing the hall. I drew my sword as several soldiers passed us. Jesus only stood quietly.

The ruckus grew fainter as angry soldiers rounded up hostile Pharisees; but it was kind of like herding cats. Finally the hall was quiet as Pilate came stomping back in, followed by Horatio and Cornelius. He paused a moment in profound awe as Jesus was still standing where Pilate had left him.

[And you didn't run away?] Pilate muttered at Jesus, seeming half relieved and half disappointed. [Maybe you are the Son of their God. You sure as hell are making my life hard.] He flipped his hand in the air. [God's in Rome didn't like me either.] He sputtered.

Pilate walked around Jesus and plopped into the judgement seat resting his chin in his hand as he drummed his fingers on its stone arm rest. He glanced at Jesus a couple of times before he sat up and took another deep breath.

[Centurion!] He called.

[Yes sir.] Cornelius answered.

[I'm suppose to release a prisoner to them….. Right?]

[Yes sir, that is the custom.]

[We're going to do this down on the pavement.] Pilate announced as he pushed himself out of the chair. [Get your men to put this down on the podium in front of this hall. Get me a wash basin too. If they insist on killing this man it's not going to be on my head.]

[Yes sir.]

[Oh, and by the way!] Pilate paused as he turned around and flipped his hand at Jesus. [Put some real clothes on him.] He commanded, just before exiting the hall.

[Yes sir.]

Horatio signaled to me to go and retrieve Jesus's clothing from the prison house.

I hurried down the stairs following the bloody footprints until I got to the building, where I retrieved the desired items and headed back toward the judgement hall. The crowds were getting thick with disgruntled masses, Pharisees and religious leaders were working to stir up. I'd seen this sort of thing before; riots ignited by fanaticism. Rubber bullets are a good solution and when those don't work; break out the real ones. I chuckled cynically. How quickly Pilate could silence this whole cluster. _.you know what_ \- with one AK-47.

 _FUBR - I thought to myself!_

I scurried back into the judgement hall as Cornelius was already calling for Horatio to bring Jesus. Men had removed the judgement seat and I'd passed soldiers in the prison house dragging Barabbas from his cell.

I tossed articles of clothing to Horatio as he hurriedly threw them over Jesus's head; before he grabbed His arm, rustling Him down the stairs only half dressed. At least He had His kethoneth and a tunic on. I let out a sigh as I carried the other items along. A band of soldiers met Horatio at the bottom of the steps and they hustled Jesus over to Pilate.

People were running everywhere and it was a mob of mass chaos as soldiers began to push the crowds back. When a spear in the face didn't work; there was no hesitation to crack someone upside the head with a club… _or a fist._

Not sure what to do; I stood and waited for directions. It wasn't long before I saw a familiar face as Bomani ran over and handed me a spear. We stay here and guard the stairs. He indicated as he took up his post next to me. It seemed they didn't want anyone running into the hall to drop anything from the balcony.

So I set the remainder of Jesus's clothing on the step behind me; as Bomani looked curiously at it, while I pointed toward Jesus. Oh, he nodded knowingly. He reached over a minute and picked up one of the sandals. Huh. He seemed to shrug as he tossed it back onto the pile. What would Roman soldiers do for some civvies? I chuckled to myself.

The murmuring crowd quieted a decibel or two as the blowing of rams horns called the people to some desired semblance of order.

 **[On this day it is customary to release a prisoner to you in a good faith gesture that Rome does honor the integrity of it's subjects.]**

 **[Your governor, the Roman official Pontius Pilate wishes to direct your attention to this important matter.]**

Just than, a noteworthy civilian accompanied by a couple of soldiers ran past us; apparently calling for a stay in the proceedings.

I peered around the pillar as the crowd briefly quieted, while Pilate accepted the message. I could almost see the look of helpless disgust wash across his face as he handed the note back to the messenger.

 **[It is of a judicious manner that I do grant the release of a prisoner on this solum feast day of Passover. Of those who we have in our custody….]**

 **[We want Barabbas!]** A voice yelled from the crowd.

 **[Of those we have in our custody….]**

 **[Barabbas!]** The crowd began to chant. **[Barabbas! Barabbas! Barabbas!]**

The crier paused as he put down his megaphone and turned to Cornelius. Pilate let out a huff as he reached in front of Cornelius and snatched the megaphone away.

 **[Who would you rather I release to you? Barabbas or Jesus that is called… CHRIST?]**

Pilate bellowed loudly.

 **[Barabbas!]**

 **[** _ **WHICH**_ **…. of the two do you want me to release?]**

 **[Barabbas!]**

 **[WHAT shall I do than with Jesus whom is called Christ? What shall I do with the…. KING OF THE JEWS?]**

 **[Crucify him!]**

 **[WHY? What crime has he committed?]**

 **[Let him be crucified!]**

 **[YOU WANT ME TO CRUCIFY YOUR KING?]**

 **[WE HAVE NO KING BUT CAESAR!]**

The crowd began to bellow wildly as Pilate stood up from his judgement seat. He looked ominously at Cornelius and than at Jesus, before he motioned to Cornelius to bring the water basin. The rams horns sounded again, to call the people to order as Pilate stood holding the basin, for as to show the crowd. When things quieted a bit; he handed the basin to Cornelius.

 **[I am guiltless of this innocent man's blood, that is shed from here on! Understand what this means to you!]**

 **[His blood be upon us and upon our children!]**

Thus Pilate washed his hands.

The crowd cheered wildly as Horatio unshackled Barabbas and he jumped off the podium and ran into the mob. I could see the look on Horatio's face: _Boss, I got a bad feeling about this!_

Pilate was busy motioning to Cornelius as a wooden plank was passed to him; along with some form of writing utensil. Pilate took up this project while Cornelius held the board and Pilate commenced writing. Once he'd finished, a smile crept across his face and he smirked at Cornelius. Cornelius turned the plank around and let out a chuckle too, before he turned it back toward Pilate.

Next they consulted Horatio, who in turn pointed to Jesus. Jesus glanced at them; answering their questions as He appeared to be giving them directions. I started to smirk too when I figured out what was going on.

Bomani flashed me in inquisitive look.

"Iesus… Caesar autam Judia" I fumbled as I pointed to what was about to 'go down'.

"Caesar autam Judia - ahhh!" Bomani cracked a chuckle and nodded approvingly.

"Caesar autam Joooozzzzz!" Bomani proclaimed.

We turned back to the ruckus at hand, as several Pharisees were flailing at Pilate; who only stood and grinned obnoxiously at them. No! he shook his head in defiant provocation before he handed Horatio the wooden plank. Horatio giggled one last time before he turned it around for the crowd to see. Although I couldn't read Latin and was only marginally familiar with the Greek alphabet; it was glaringly obvious from Pilate's script what he wrote.

Jesus KING of the Jews


	30. Father Forgive Them

**Father Forgive Them**

The procession to the execution site passed right before us as Bomani and I waited to see what orders we'd be given. The other two men condemned to death that day, were being assembled just outside the prison house; having had… _assistance_ to pick up their cross beams. One endured a little more fierce of a flogging than the other; _(apparently according to the poor disposition of attitude he presented)_ and both subsequently tied to their respective yolks to be marched off to Golgotha.

[Go find someone to carry his patibulum.] Horatio ordered Bomani as he twirled his finger around the crowd. [Any one of these useful idiots will work.]

[Yes sir.] Bomani answered as he hopped off his step and ran toward the prison house.

Right in his path, another African was escorting two boys across the pavement. Bomani grabbed the confused foreigner and pushed him toward the pick up site; while his children scrambled out of the way. Well, I guess they can't accuse Bomani of racial profiling. I smirked as ….. Simon picked up the cross beam and followed where Bomani's spear was pointing. It seemed they…. _spoke the same language?_ Bomani slapped Simon on the back.

 _Interesting._ I observed.

Horatio then pointed to me and the pile of clothing on the step behind me. I picked them up. Apparently I was on laundry detail. Horatio snatched the sandals and tossed them on the ground; with the instruction that he expected Jesus to put them on.

Well…. _**that**_ was less than successful, in as soon as Jesus attempted to bend down to latch them; He toppled over and couldn't quite figure out how to get back up. He'd managed to tie one sandal while I tied the other, before Horatio helped haul Him back to His feet.

Cornelius was approaching as he directed soldiers to clear the path. He paused a moment and looked at Jesus.

[I…I..guess you were right.] His voice cracked.

Cornelius quickly turned away to busy himself with finding more soldiers to yell at. I guess I wasn't the only one around here that… _didn't want to let them see me cry._

Simon drudged over, followed by the encouragement of Bomani's spear, as he defiantly dropped the cross beam on the pavement next to us. He took one look at me and than wobbly Jesus; before he stooped down to _voluntarily_ stand it up again.

Who are you? Simon's eyes searched as if he vaguely recognized Jesus.

Pontius Pilate has been trying to figure _**that**_ one out all morning. I almost laughed as I looked at Simon. Who are you? I'm not sure either? I peered at Jesus as He slowly turned back toward me. 'Dead man walking'; the phrase stuck in my mind. Another day at the office in any man's army; file some papers, load a supply truck, pull some enemy POW out of a hole in the Saudi desert;… crucify Jesus Christ.

'Thank you for your service.' _God I hate it when people say that!_

I followed Horatio and Cornelius as they barked orders at soldiers working diligently to police the masses on the road to Golgotha. We'd transversed the pavement, down two sets of stairs on the western side of Antonia and back into the court of the gentiles. From there, we walked the north end of the temple onto another road that lead through what was called 'The Triple Gate' in the eastern side of the city, to the 'Red Heifer Bridge'.

I followed Jesus, who followed Horatio and Cornelius; all followed by Simon, Bomani, the two thieves _and whatever all other dregs of humanity decided to join this parade._ We transversed this bridge single file, while soldiers kept the crowds at bay as; _well as from slowing us down_.

Abby Road to Golgotha. The thought drifted through my mind as the opening bars of 'The Long and Winding Road' began to play. It seemed like an odd paradox to me, to be 'in a hurry' to an execution; but Jesus seemed pretty intent that He was going to get there before He passed out in the road.

The mobs were boisterous, unruly and… desperately confused! The scene before me all bled together like one of those impressionist paintings that you stand before in the museum and ask: _'What the hell is that?'_

I was detached from it all though; kind of like walking through a 3-D movie. I'd had this feeling many times during the war. The - this is real, but it doesn't seem real… feeling? Why doesn't it seem real? What is truth? Pontius Pilate's question kept plaguing me.

Jesus looked dead already. It was hard to describe the empty eyes to the soul that was…. missing? I couldn't even say 'lights on and nobody's home' because there weren't even lights on. Is that the definition of a zombie? I pondered. _A moral zombie, who has no will of His own…. any more? Is that what that angel did to you? Is that why You're here?_ I questioned as I watched Him answer all these pathetic wailing women.

Don't cry for me; cry for yourselves, for I'm getting out of hell!

Jesus trudged along behind Horatio and Cornelius to the end of the bridge; passed the red heifer alter and snaking through groves of trees that were perched just above the sepulchers hewn in the rock face just below us. We walked south a bit toward the crucifixion site where the vertical cross sections stood; permanently sunk into the rocks in the top of what they called 'the place of the skull'. Now why they named it that; I had no idea? Here we were though.

Simon dropped the cross beam on the ground where one of the soldiers had indicated, as Horatio took the clothing I was carrying and appointed me the task of assisting at keeping the crowds out of the way.

"Yes sir, I can do that." I gratefully sighed; _since I didn't really want to be part of any of the rest of this._

Horatio motioned for Simon to follow me. We walked around the other soldiers and one thief; _who was getting the snot kicked out of him for spitting at his executioners._ People were screaming and jeering as Simon was searching around; a bit panicked at where his children had ended up.

" **They're over there!"** I slapped him on the back and pointed.

[Thank you. Thank you.] He bowed before he took off to retrieve them.

I made my way back through the trees; hoping for some fat Pharisee I could polk a hole in and empty his wind bag; when I heard Cornelius bellow.

 **[Guard! Commence execution order!]**

I turned around when I heard another voice command.

 **[Father! Forgive them; for they know not who it is they do this to.]**

The two soldiers who were about to nail Jesus's hands looked at each other.

[Yeah, he's talking about you.] Cornelius mumbled as he stepped over wincing Jesus to retrieve the hammer one of the thieves kicked out of the soldier's hand. He lifted it up over his head, ready to smash this man's, knee should he decide to kick anyone. The thief reassessed his options.

These crosses were not dramatic and towering; _like hanging a man on a telephone pole, as was depicted in Hollywood's Spartacus movie._ No, they were low enough to the ground that a couple of soldiers could pick up the crucified and level the cross beam to it's corresponding steak without much effort at all. A couple of these steaks had horizontal blocks of wood nailed to them that almost served as a proper 'seat'. A few of the empty steaks looked as if their wood block seats had been knocked off.

The execution squad had already hung one thief and was in the process of hanging the other, when Horatio took one of the hammers and began pounding the center steak's block of wood out to an angle; while securing the other side with a couple of additional long nails. I wasn't sure exactly what he was doing; until the other two soldiers picked Jesus up. Horatio grabbed one leg and straddled Jesus over this block, while the third executioner folded His legs up underneath Him and nailed His feet directly to the front of the steak.

Lastly, Cornelius hung the charges over Jesus's head.

Well isn't that interesting? I thought to myself as the soldiers had nailed the thieves right through the sides of the ankles. I could hear the bones crunching and they screamed incessantly for about the next 10 minutes, until I suppose either their legs went numb, or they _'adjusted'_ to the pain. Also, they'd been nailed through the wrists, while Jesus had been tied by the wrists, but nailed through the hands.

 _For these things were done, that the scripture should be fulfilled, A bone of him shall not be broken._

Interesting. I thought to myself. Again, interesting. I noted as I watched the soldiers divi up Jesus's clothing.

They each took a share while one held up the cloak and looked it over.

[Nice coat. Let's not tear it, but cast lots to decide who gets it.]

[That the Scripture might be fulfilled which says; they parted my clothing among them, and for my cloak they cast lots.]

The four soldiers looked up at Horatio.

[Yes folks, that's what it actually says.] Cornelius answered as he walked around the soldiers.

The soldiers looked at each other.

[Did you know that?]

[Do I look like I'd know that?]

One smirked as he smacked his buddy.

[So we fulfilling Jew prophecy…. ehh?]

[Fine, I'm feeling prophetic today. Let's draw lots.]

And this they did.

 _Interesting. I thought to myself. Again, interesting._

I stood and pondered while only observing; still caught in that haze of somewhere between Gulf War PTSD, bad dream or movie set? Even though Jesus's 'lot' seemed a bit more 'accommodating' than those of the thieves; it was still quite obvious to any casual observer; _who had any medical (or crucifixion) knowledge_ that Jesus was likely to expire before the other two.

He hung slumped to one side, barely conscious much of the time, still having to adjust every few minutes so He could breath. He'd stay in a certain position and just when people would murmur about him being dead; He'd 'wake up' in a sudden jolt. The idiots would whistle, cheer and jeer; some of the axillary soldiers cracking jokes, while others just stood by, seeming confused, board, or both? Jesus would be conscious, looking around and talking to people for about 10 minutes, before He'd fade out again and 'wake up' once more, for another 10 minute round.

This went on until noon. Than suddenly _and rather quickly_ \- it grew _**really**_ dark!

Curious, as this darkness also brought on a nearly instantaneously and miraculous thinning of the crowd. I was busy patrolling, when I saw a couple of faces I thought I recognized; and one I knew!

" **Mar 'i-um Mag 'della."** I called with a signal that they could come closer.

" **Umi!"** I turned to Horatio as I pointed to Jesus's mother.

Horatio glanced back at Cornelius; who nodded before Horatio motioned for the women to come closer. Mary Magdalene stood near me, as the other two crept past one thief to Jesus.

[Kat-reen?] Mary studied me a moment.

[Salaam Alaikum.] I shrugged…. _the only response that came to mind._

Mary flashed me a puzzled look; before she let out a sigh and stared off in the direction of the crosses.

[I guess he was right.] She sniffled as she quickly turned away and started to cry. [Why?]

"It's part of the plan."

[He doesn't have to die.]

"Yes, he does."

 **[NO!]** She yelled at me.

I turned and looked at her before we both heard something that sounded like thunder. We peered up at the sky. The clouds were sparse in the dim… eclipse _that wasn't really an eclipse._ Signs in the sun, moon and stars. I thought to myself as I wondered what was going on…. _up there._

Well, the darkness brought a few more brave souls out. I noticed as I could see John rambling up the hill toward me. Several others stood way back on the Red Heifer Bridge and I strained my eyes a bit to try and see if I could figure out who? They were too far away though and it seemed quite obvious that they didn't really want to be known. One just stood afar off from the other 3; arms folded, staring helplessly in our direction. It looked to me like Peter; too distressed by 'I don't know this man', to dare take a step closer.

I hadn't noticed the women left, before Mary recognized John and hurried over to him. She took him by the hand, returned and bowed politely to me.

Go. I gestured.

She scurried John over to Jesus; who was awake and talking again. I watched as Mary held John's hand. John looked stunned, pale and nauseous as he nodded to Jesus; who's raspy instructions were barely audible at this point. When one of the thieves began screaming and Jesus grew still; Mary and John decided it was time to leave.

A brood of flittering Pharisees stood silent as they watched John walk by, holding Mary's hand. Mary traipsed along stoically, a couple of paces behind; while telling John of what ever it was she seemed so sure of. They all glared at her and I started to wonder what she was saying.

 _Yeah, just wait and see; he's coming back from the dead!_

 _The scribes and pharisees seemed spun into a bit of a tizzy._

The crowds thinned more, as the ominous darkness continued to haunt the witnesses of this most notorious execution in human history. I wandered over toward Jesus, who's eyes were open; but He didn't seem too much of what….. was still there? We both stared out over the hillside, across the ravine at the temple.

 _And Abraham came to Mount Moriah and saw the place of sacrifice a far off._

 _I could almost see Abraham and Issac staring back at us through the corridors of time._

Jesus began to squirm, cough and sputter. When I looked over; I'd noticed that He seemed to be a bit… stuck. He hollered and cried and I wasn't sure if I could… _or should_ do something to…. move Him… a bit. He'd gone into some sort of convulsion and started shivering. Apparently His own muscle contractions had 'repositioned' Him enough to make it easier to breath. He hung there staring at me; of which I wasn't so sure He could even see strait? He started wheezing and coughed up some blood, which seemed to make Him a bit more comfortable. He turned back the other way.

I watched a bit, as though His breathing was steady now, it was still quite labored. The black and blue marks from the beatings He'd taken were starting to turn His skin purple. He now looked gaunt and sickly; a world of difference even from the tired; _yet punctuated by moments of silly banter….._ person I'd encountered 4 days earlier.

Yes, the four days ago that I kissed You; and now I can't even look at You without getting nauseous. I sucked in a breath.

I turned away when Jesus's attention drifted back in my direction.

"To the girl, do nothing." He spoke surprisingly clearly and I whipped my head around to see if I was imagining this. "For as when a man rises and slays his neighbor; so is this matter."

"Deuteronomy 22." I mumbled; almost wholly believing that I was hallucinating. "That's the…. kill the rapist verse."

Jesus coughed up more blood as He attempted to turn His head; while looking down at His own naked body. He began to twitch and jerk, looking almost as if He was having a seizure.

"Those who forsake the law praise the wicked." He whispered. "But he who keeps it, wages war against them." He peered over at me.

"So You're telling me I want to throw up because I'm not Charles Manson." I mumbled as I began to wheeze and turned away coughing up the seemingly endless disgust from the depth of my soul.

Horatio turned toward us as I continued to spit my guts out all over the ground. Jesus started wheezing too and when I'd looked over, I noticed He'd somewhat 'slid' of His 'seat' again and couldn't breathe. I can fix that. I concluded with a reasonable conviction, as I handed Horatio my spear, put one hand on Jesus hip, the other under His arm and gave Him a shove. He whimpered a bit, but then took a breath. He looked at me; seeming a bit….. grateful?

Horatio flashed me a raised eyebrow and then just shrugged before he handed the spear back and I decided it was time to take a walk around.

I paced among the crowds as murmuring Pharisees complained quietly among themselves; all glaring at me as I passed. _The Roman soldier now with the bloody hands._ They all took a step back. Don't worry. I'm not going to smear such precious blood on the likes of you. I smirked as I stood with a wild eyed grin thumbing the blade of my spear while peering over at them. They all grew big saucer eyes and scurried away.

 _The feigned madness of war can make good for a soldiers' amusement!_

Several of the other men laughed.

Finally after having tired of taunting Pharisees; I wandered back over toward some of the other troops and sat down. I leaned over, resting my head in my hands, for I still didn't feel well and now, was fighting a migraine.


	31. My God, My God

**My God, My God**

[Eli...Eli...]

[He's calling for Elijah.]

[Let's see if Elijah comes to rescue him.]

 _That's not what He's sayin you dumb asses!_

"Eli Eli lama sabach' thani" I repeated as Horatio and Cornelius stood in dumbfounded awe, staring at Jesus; _while some... 'misinformed' idiot was trying to give Him vinegar and sour wine._

After Horatio had chased the mocker away; Jesus looked around at him, the rest of us and than up into the sky. He sucked in one last deep breath and began to cough. After He'd caught a breath, He looked at Horatio.

[I'm thirsty.] He said.

Horatio heard Him as he looked around a minute or two.

[Over there.] Cornelius pointed to a bucket of vinegar.

Horatio grabbed the bucket, dropped a sponge in it, than walked over to a nearby bush and hacked a branch off. I watched as he secured the sponge around the leafy stalk with a strand of hemp rope and swished this brew around inside the bucket. From there he carried it over to Jesus and gave it to Him to drink.

Jesus sucked it in and Horatio just kept offering more until Jesus just didn't seem coherent enough to know what was going on any longer. He seemed totally lost in His own little world by that point. I could tell at least Horatio knew He was close to death. People get a little delusional sounding when they surpass that certain threshold.

 _The squawking of a crow? For where the body is, the buzzards will gather._

Several minutes passed as incomprehensible screeching erupted from Jesus, before He bowed His head and gave up the ghost.

 _It wasn't but for a moment or two, that other things began to happen - and the rest passed by in a blur._

I do suppose the renting of the veil of the temple we'd... _'missed'_ ; as to our being too preoccupied with the trembling ground beneath our feet. Part of the rock face around us, had split open and slid down the hill.

[Obviously, He was God's son; the I Am.] Cornelius muttered in awe to his frightened men.

[It's empty!] A voice suddenly exclaimed. [Well, butter my butt and call me... unleavened bread! It's _friggin'_ empty!]

I looked up; and low and behold there Horatio stood... _with my binoculars_... staring off into the holy of holies; between the two halves of the now rent curtain.

 _I guess I have broken the Prime Directive; I tried not to fret._

[You mean that ark they've been ranting about, isn't even in there?] Cornelius flashed Horatio a dumfounded stare.

All this Divine... _commotion_ , suddenly brought several Pharisees dragging hapless and hopelessly confused soldiers all the way from Pilate in Antonia, disingenuously pleading to the nearest Avocati to break the legs of the crucified; so _allegedly_... they could take them off the crosses before the high Sabbath holy day.

OK? the junior officer shrugged as he pointed the soldiers to the first thief.

" **Wait a MINUTE!"** I hollered as I jumped up, while several Pharisees skittered toward Jesus; _ranting over whatever lemmings rant about._

I hurried to the soldier who had followed them. **"He's dead already!"** I pronounced, pointing to the obvious fact that Jesus had expired. The soldier took one look at the corpse; grabbed my spear and stuck the body through the wall of the chest cavity. Once he pulled the spear out, water and blood came with it.

[Yeah, he's dead.] The soldier confirmed to his buddy; who moved on to the next thief.

This flock of Pharisees quickly changed tactics, as one started wailing about the "Shekinah Kavod"; which had _suddenly and mysteriously_ disappeared from the temple.

 _Ironic how this happened upon 'the heathen dog' - (Horatio)'s announcement that apparently the ark of the covenant was... gone._

"Because the ark of the covenant's right there!" I pointed as I caught one of these fruit loops by the collar and dragged him back toward the cross.

"Vagina glory my ass!". I muttered. "Look!" I pointed again. "Elohim, YHWH, Mashiach! It's a guy thing! But I guess you wouldn't know anything about that; now would you?"

The soldiers started giggling.

Cornelius flashed glances between myself and Jesus's corpse, before he hurried over toward Horatio. [Let me see!] He reached out and snatched the binoculars.

[Well, I'll be...] Cornelius gasped. [They're freaking out over there!]

Upon hearing this; the flock of fluttering Pharisees ran head long toward the Red Heifer Bridge; wailing in hysterics as the daylight began to return.

 ** _Revelation 9:_**

 ** _Another suburban family morning; grandmother's screaming at the walls._**

 ** _We have to shout above the din of our Rice Krispies; we can't hear anything at all._**

 ** _Mother chants her litany of boredom and frustration; but we know all the suicides are fake._**

 ** _Daddy only stares into the distance; there's only so much more that he can take._**

 ** _Many miles away, something crawls from the slime, at the bottom of a dark, Scottish lake._**

 ** _Another industrial ugly morning; the factory belches filth into the sky._**

 ** _He walks unhindered through the picket lines today; he doesn't think to wonder why?_**

 ** _The secretaries pout and preen like cheap tarts in a red light street; but all he ever thinks to do is watch._**

 ** _But every single meeting with his, so called superior; is a humiliating kick in the crotch._**

 ** _Many miles away, something crawls to the surface, of a dark Scottish lock._**

 ** _Another working day has ended; only the rush hour hell to face._**

 ** _Packed like lemmings into shiny metal boxes; contestants in a suicidal race._**

 ** _Daddy grips the wheel and stares alone into the distance; he knows that something somewhere has to break._**

 ** _He sees the family home now; looming in his headlights; the pain upstairs that makes his eyeballs ache._**

 ** _Many miles away,_**

 ** _There's a shadow on the door,_**

 ** _Of a cottage on the shore,_**

 ** _Of a dark, Scottish lake!_**

 ** _Many miles away..._**

Upon the road hurrying toward us, were two other men; one a Pharisee and the other a member of the council. It was Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea.

[We have permission from Pilate to take possession of the body of Jesus of Nazareth.]

Joseph handed Cornelius a sealed Papyrus scroll.

[He's all yours.]

Cornelius waved the document away as he directed one of the soldiers to assist in removing the body from the cross. I went over to lend a hand.

[Is he really dead?]

Nicodemus flashed the soldier a puzzled look as he pulled the nails out of Jesus's feet and He began to bleed, while His legs fell limp to the ground. Joseph was inspecting the body for signs of life.

[He's not breathing.] Joseph checked again.

[How is he bleeding. Dead men don't bleed.]

[There's no heart beat.]

 _Interesting, I thought to myself as I observed their investigation. A corpse that doesn't even act like your typical corpse. Well, I guess when you have no sin and don't rot; things that normally take place at death - don't!_

The soldier pulled the second nail out of Jesus's other hand, while I cut His wrists loose. The body fell into Joseph's arms like a sleeping rag doll.

"Fascinating." I mumbled as they pulled the body off the 'seat' and laid it on the ground.

Nicodemus was rolling out the shroud to carry Him in; when the other soldier stepped around me to assist in removing one of the thieves. The blood in the feet began to clot and just out of curiosity; I reached down and picked up one of Jesus's legs. After only a few minutes, the purplish tint of pooled blood began to dissipate and the flesh turned a more 'natural' color. Nicodemus and Joseph just watched as I picked the other foot up; all to a similar end.

"The blood doesn't coagulate because it isn't breaking down." I explained; _even though I knew they couldn't understand me._ "That's what happens when you're God incarnate and You got no sin. You don't decompose. So, gravity carries the fluid back up into the torso. He probably won't go into rigger either."

Joseph again began to check for signs of life, as... _interesting..._ things happened to this corpse.

"No, He's really dead." I let out a snicker. "The femoral vein passes right through that area. That's why that's happening."

They looked up at me.

"Too many episodes of Forensic Files. What can I say?" I shrugged.

Joseph grabbed one arm and we rolled the body onto one side, as Nicodemus tucked the shroud underneath. He noticed some of the laceration marks on Jesus's back began to split apart and bleed more.

"There will be many signs of death conspicuously absent; that you will wonder throughout this whole burial process, if He's really dead. Don't worry; He is."

I helped them wrap strips of cloth around the body before we picked it up to carry it to the tomb. Cornelius had volunteered another two soldiers to the task and so thus we were off. When we arrived at destination 'freshly hewed tomb'; we soldiers left the two men to their work.

I followed as the other soldiers meandered back to Cornelius and the crucifixion site.

[So do you really think he'll come back from the dead?]

[I donno.]

[Be kind of cool if he did; don't you think?]

[Well, I guess we'll know in a couple of days, won't we?]

[I guess we will.]

Horatio was giggling as Cornelius was still peering at the city through my binoculars. Another two soldiers had come and presented a second sealed papyrus. Horatio was reading it.

[Their kidding right?]

[What?] Cornelius mumbled; while still watching the city through high power magnification. [These would come in really handy in a battle.]

Horatio glanced at Cornelius. [Yes... Right, sir!] He acknowledged. [I wanna join her army. Will you grant me permission to leave this time and space?]

[I'm not the one you need to ask.] Cornelius chuckled, as he gestured at the orders Horatio had been reading. [So... what do they want now?]

[Oh, Pilate posted a guard at the tomb.]

[Really?] Cornelius began to laugh. [What, they think he's going to... rise from the dead?]

They both giggled.

[Well sir, If I were them; I'd be scared too. If he really could raise the dead; there's no reason to believe he couldn't raise himself.]

[But that's the point Horatio] Cornelius noted. [Believe... what is belief based on? Based on a set of preexisting facts; or based on something they hope won't happen?]

[I'd rather _**not**_ be in the 'hope it doesn't happen' camp, sir.]

[Yeah.] Cornelius nodded. [They got a lot more to lose in this proposition than us heathen dogs. You know that; don't you?]

Horatio flashed Cornelius a curious look.

[If he really is, what they apparently fear to know that he is; they're in a shit load of trouble with their God.]

[Their God sir? But isn't it the point of their religion that there's only one God?]

[Yeah, the one God who they are suppose to have insider knowledge of; the chosen ones... you know? The ones God has allegedly revealed so much truth to.]

[Sir, I don't understand how they are so clueless though? There's so much I see, just in what he'd say. It made a lot of sense. Maybe I'm just not that sophisticated for one who follows orders, but I could see the truth he spoke of... and I don't know the slightest thing about their God.]

[Well, if you believe he's the son of God; you know more than you think.]

[Is it enough though? I mean, when we realize that we're technically the ones who killed him.]

[And he asked his Father to forgive us.]

[For they know not who it is they do this to.] Horatio folded his arms and peered over at the now empty cross before he turned back to Cornelius. [Do you think we're even close to knowing who he was?]

[Well... I hope we are closer than we think.]

[Me too.]

 _(Synchronicity II - The Police)_


	32. Ignatius's Mission Impossible

**Ignatius's Mission Impossible?**

Horatio motioned for me to follow he and Cornelius back into the city. I noted they both to be; _obviously_ a bit covetous of my binoculars. Although they kept peering between myself and their intent; apparently with the nagging conviction that they really needed to give them back to me.

I smirked as I imagined some future big news story of my own day:

HEADLINE: _**While doing excavations on the Temple Mount; archeologists discover a pair of 20th century tactical binoculars under the Dome of the Rock!**_

 _Look at what survived the siege of Jerusalem! Ehhhh!_

On the other hand though, I'd be willing to swap them the binoculars for Jesus's cloak. I giggled to myself. I'd stick it in my cedar chest as a 'verifiable relic' - _(like - according to Indiana Jones; the ark of the covenant is in a warehouse in Area 51 somewhere and nobody ever sees it)! HA!_

Then get what ever 'debris' found on the cloak DNA profiled; _but of course never tell anyone where it came from!_ Well, we know most of the DNA is consistent with a male of Middle-Eastern Semitic origin. The garment carbon 14 dates to be only a couple of years old; but the most abundant DNA profile is consistent with DNA that's a couple of millennia old? Now wouldn't that be a hoot!

 _So, sorry Shroud of Turin, but if you were really wrapped around the body of Jesus Christ; (or anyone's body for that matter) there'd be no question Who's DNA was most abundant! And let's just ignore what the Scriptures say about Jesus's burial shroud being more than one piece; (a 'napkin' wrapped around His head). There are plenty of historical, as well as anthropological issues going on here…. but we won't look at those!_

Any how, apparently the soldier who'd won the cloak in the lottery, decided it would be an appropriate gesture to return a resurrected man's clothing; as now it had ended up in Horatio's hands.

[Do you want to give this back to Ignatius, sir?]

[He wants the field glasses.]

[We all want those!] Horatio snickered.

[He'd probably also tell us to give it back to Jesus.]

[Do you think he'd want it sir?]

[I don't know? Maybe _**he'd**_ rather have the field glasses too?]

They both laughed.

[So sir, what do you think is going to happen, if he really does come back from the dead?]

[I don't know?]

[Do you think that _**will**_ happen?]

Cornelius paused a moment, as he looked back at me and than wagged his finger in the air.

[Yes, actually I do.] He stated emphatically, before pointing at me. [If her reaction to his death is any indication and _**we… know,**_ she came from the future! If you've noticed, she's not phased at all, by any of what all has transpired today. And… if he turned out to be the culmination of all these people's crushed dreams?] Cornelius smiled with a wink. [Do you think she'd be so… fond of him?]

[Good point sir.] Horatio grinned and winked back. [How soon do you think this city is going to be destroyed? Could this be the event that sparks it off?]

Cornelius pondered a moment before he answered.

[I don't think so. Remember he kept telling Pilate that his kingdom is not of this world. If anyone starts a war; it'll be these idiots we released Barabbas too.]

[Yes sir, I have a bad feeling about that one.]

[I got a bad feeling about all this.]

They both shook their heads, as we resumed walking.

[So what? Are they going to try and kill him a second time?]

[Sorry! But I only allot myself one crucifixion per person.]

They snickered, then were quiet a moment or two.

[So, do you think he'd go back to preaching in the temple?]

[And throwing them out again?] Cornelius grinned. [You heard about what that one priest said to him; didn't you?]

[The guy that told him to go have sex, sir?]

They both laughed.

[You'll feel better and stop kicking the money changers out…. Yeah him!]

[Yes sir, Bomani of all people told me about that one. He didn't find it funny at all.]

[I wouldn't expect Bomani would.] Cornelius flashed Horatio a morbid grimace. [I'd expect one of my men to say something like that; not someone on the high council of the Sanhedrin.]

[Well, the men were laughing pretty hard sir. Didn't seem to phase him though?]

[I didn't expect it would.]

[There's probably a lot about him we don't know.]

[Well, I'm not even going… _**there!**_ ]

[Don't care to speculate on that one, huh? Prudent sir, prudent.]

The both chuckled a bit.

[So…. I wonder if _**we**_ could get into the future, if she got here?]

The conversation seemed to shift topics as Horatio glanced back at me.

[I don't know? But I would certainly be game for the adventure.]

Cornelius glanced back too, as he rubbed his hands enthusiastically.

[So would I sir. How far from into the future do you think she came?]

[Well, we'd have to pick Ignatius's brain for that one. I think he got more information than anybody.]

[Even Jesus's Father sir?]

[No, I think… _**He..**_ just wasn't talking.] Cornelius laughed. [Ignatius told me Jesus seemed a little frustrated. Apparently, He'd been left out of _that_ intel loop.]

[Or he was just too tired to think strait; sir.]

[Yes, Ignatius told me about that too. He ended up… sedating both of them. Whether it was inadvertently…. _or intentionally;_ circumventing that priest's suggestion?] Cornelius smirked. [Ignatius thought it was cute. They'd fallen asleep on his couch together.]

[That's interesting? Do you suppose that might be why she's here?]

Cornelius began laughing.

[Well, if that was the intent of some form of Divine intervention, it has apparently fallen a bit short; because, as I'm sure you've noticed, she tends to spend an awful lot of time with…. _**us**_ _!]_

[True sir.] Horatio chuckled as he marked Cornelius's point.

[Besides, Jesus had made it clear on several occasions, that he didn't feel he was meant to get married.]

[Not in the plan. Yes, I remember him eluding to that. Although I do confess, I'd be more than a little unhappy with a Father that consigned me to _**that**_ lot!]

[I hear you! But I guess there's sacrifices to be made if your going to be the Messiah.]

[I wouldn't make a good Messiah.]

[Neither would I!]

They both laughed again.

[Oh, speaking of wives; how is your's?] Cornelius shot Horatio an offhanded question.

[Happy my stint here is almost over sir; but so am I. I miss Caesarea.]

[Yes, me too.]

[You came down here on account of Adalwolf the Saxon; correct sir?]

[Yes, he was one centurion who Jesus healed his servant in Capernaum. He heard about Jesus from another centurion who also had a servant healed. Adalwolf didn't send some Jew though. He came himself.]

[Yes, as the men often polity put it sir: he, had…. a set!]

[Yes he did!] Cornelius agreed with a smile. [Jesus made a point to the crowd, about this Germanic 'heathen' soldier's faith being more than he'd found in all of Israel. When Adalwolf told me his story! That's when I decided; I gotta check this Jesus out.]

[Yes, that intrigued me too. It only took us 2 years to get here sir.] Horatio chuckled.

[Yeah, well? Army bureaucracy you know.]

[Has Helina adjusted to the news of heading back to Caesarea yet?]

[No!] Cornelius laughed. [I keep bugging Ignatius if he's got any nephews who are looking for a wife? He seems to be over prolific in female relatives though.]

[Yes sir. I remember him introducing one of his nieces to Jesus.]

[Yes! I remember that too.] Cornelius gaffed as he swung around and pointed at Horatio. [That went over well.]

[Like catapulting dung over a fort wall sir.] Horatio smirked.

[Yes! Remember the look on her face?] Cornelius burst into rolls of laughter. [Uncle, I'm taller than he is.]

[But at least he's moral.] Horatio presented his best impersonation.

[Oh, but he's Jewish!] Cornelius feigned his finest disgusted squeaky girl voice.

[Yes sir, and Jesus just sat quietly. Ignatius, you have proven yourself to be a studious disciple of the Torah, and a faithful supporter; but….. I don't need this in my life.]

[Yes, yes! Horatio my boy. Ignatius has some of the best intentions; but he aint cupid.]

[Yes sir. I have duly noted that.]

[So it doesn't surprise me that he was on his… match making _agenda…_. again!] Cornelius gestured at me.

[Well, we _could_ give him that he's getting closer sir.] Horatio chuckled. [At least this one would be willing.]

[Yeah, Even a bit eager; I noticed that too.] Cornelius let out a sigh as he looked at me. [That's if she stays in this time; which I get the impression, she wouldn't be too happy about.]

[Well honestly sir.] Horatio nodded. [If I had the chance to go back to the future. I'd do it!]

[So would I; Horatio my son. So would I!]

We soon turned down a narrow ally and found our way to the back entrance of Ignatius's estate. Cornelius let us in the side gate and we all walked up the path to the front of the house. Folks were apparently expecting us, as one of the servants opened the door before we'd even gotten to the stoop.

[Come in. Come in.] He ushered us along; right through the front entrance hall, to the left and apparently toward their spa house. Two female servants greeted me; indicating that I should follow them.

We walked single file through a narrow outdoor corridor between two buildings when we came to the entrance where, apparently the female household members bathed. The hot room had already been prepared with steam and I gladly accepted the servants' help peeling through layers of battle armor, before I stepped into their steam room. After about 15 minutes, the servants led me to a tub, where I snuggled down into the warm water and fell asleep.


	33. Conspiracy 33 AD

**Conspiracy 33 AD - They Found the Documents**

I awoke when the water sunk to the temperature of: 'it's time to get out of this tub'. I perceived it to be hours later. The sun had set, as I realized it was probably close to 24 hours since I'd last eaten. 'Food, Food, Food' my internal warning light flashed. I sat up and looked around. Once the servant noticed I was conscious, she hurried toward me with some small soft woolen sheets; _that apparently served as towels_.

Once I'd dried and she lent her assistance to get dressed; we headed back between the buildings and toward the house. As we navigated the maze; I noticed several servants in a small hut, who looked to be engaged in washing the household laundry. In amidst the hanging articles, I noted a cloak I recognized. When I paused to look in, there I could see another set of articles (which looked vaguely familiar) immersed in pails of bloody water. The 'laundry room' smelled like an army field hospital.

Nothing speaks of war with such silent screams, as the mixed odor of blood and urine. I mumbled to myself; as memories of fleet hospital clean up surfaced from buried dread and revulsions of my subconscious. Packing, unpacking and repacking connex boxes full of the now silent witnesses to the most recent battle fought on these sands. I thought for a moment, as I stared into this room; now caught in a flashback to a conflict that ironically _(to this point in time)_ hadn't even happened yet.

The only thing I could feel was creeping panic, as the endless convoys of machinery marched passed me; covered with the soot of oil fires and the ash of those who were too unfortunate to get out of the way. Black sticky Iraqis caught in the tank treads along with that strange smell that permeated everything.

I could hear the screams, cries and explosions as they reverberated in some odd eternal echo through the very metal of each truck I walked past. They all seemed possessed of death itself, or maybe it was just the sand that had become so easily entrapped in everything? The earth crying for justice from the depravity men pour out on each other. Yes, all that and the soldiers themselves were worse. I recollected, as I shook my head and suddenly snapped out of the past.

 _Weird the things that trigger us._

I turned my attention back toward history and the direction of this servant girl, who seemed to be a bit nervous of my preoccupation with the laundry room. I guess it's OK? I finally decided; as I was fighting with feeling like my skin was about to crawl right off my bones.

I didn't quite understand how the act of holy sacrifice got so terribly confused with the horrors of modern warfare; until I suddenly awoke to the fact that the crucifixion _(even if only from the human perspective)_ was every bit as bad as Desert Storm. Yes, I know both events have their own distinctive set of circumstances and maybe it's not even possible to compare the two; but death is still death. Whether it is deserved or not; in both circumstances, our own sin has brought it upon us.

I thought a moment longer, as we wandered into the Ignatius's atrium. Could I possibly understand atonement a little better because of the Gulf War? And could being crucified imprint on God in a similar way as war imprints on man? I had to scratch my head on that one a bit. Not that I ever thought the experience permanently distorted Jesus's mind; but maybe He really did comprehend what it's like to be a partaker, not only of someone else's destruction, but also your own? After all, it did say that He willingly lay down His life; but why were things like this? The questions kept coming.

I let out a sigh as I decided it would be best to just leave off with such inquires at this point, as they were starting to give me a headache. It didn't seem worth it at the moment, for the answers weren't short in coming and I had only managed to weary my already tired mind.

We had passed through to the dinning hall and my stomach was happy to see that there was indeed some food around to chomp on. Fried chicken and a couple of big old biscuits sound good right about now. I chuckled to myself as I envisioned Ignatius sending someone to the local KFC; or rather, Little Caesars. Yeah, get me some hot wings too would ya? I laughed as I could feel myself nearly starting to drool. Oh how charming that would be! I snickered as I wiped my face, before I waited for a seat at the table. Pan pan. Pizza pizza!

Much to my predictable surprise; some familiar faces soon joined us. Cornelius and Horatio sat next to Ignatius; who took up his customary position at the head of the table. Across from them, I was invited to sit; when low and behold, here came Helina. Every one else took their seats; in order of rank it seemed. Ignatius nodded politely to all before he began to... sing.

 **Pater noster, qui es in caelis:**

 **sanctificetur Nomen Tuum;**

 **adveniat Regnum Tuum;**

 **fiat voluntas Tua,**

 **sicut in caelo, et in terra.**

 **Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;**

 **et dimitte nobis debita nostra,**

 **sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;**

 **et ne nos inducas in tentationem;**

 **sed libera nos a Malo.**

It wasn't until they got to the end, that I realized I actually recognized the words:

 **Amen**

Punctuated brief encounters with Roman Catholicism, I'd sat through upon the deaths of several relatives on my mother's side. As well as listening to my aunt _(the convent drop out)_ fumble through these very same words upon late summer nights down at her camp in the southern tier of New York; _after all the other adults were too blitzed to pay attention._ There's nothing quite as painful as hearing a former nun trying to sing the Lord's prayer when drunk.

 _Jesus help us! I tried not to laugh._

Servants soon came with food as Cornelius posed a toast to the generosity of Ignatius and family; when the conversation turned to, what I assumed to be - the day's events.

[So Pontius Pilate actually followed the Hebrew Scripture?]

[He sure did!]

[I guess there was a Divine purpose for you to be centurion of the watch!]

[Yes sir; it seems so.]

[And he posted a guard at the tomb?]

[At **_their_** request sir!] Cornelius nodded as he marked his point.

[You know, if I didn't even know this Jesus of Nazareth; I'd want to see him come back from the dead, just to spite those fools!] Ignatius shook his head. [Most of us... Roman heathen dogs... couldn't care one way or the other about the Jewish masses; but their leaders need to be stung up from the pillars of their own temple!] Ignatius let out a disgusted huff. [They have no loyalty; to Rome or anyone else. They don't even care about their own people; and... that's what I don't get.] Ignatius shook his finger at Cornelius.

[I don't understand it either, sir?] Cornelius answered. [Pilate threw insults at them about caring for their own. He referred to Jesus like a little child that Rome had to spank because his parents couldn't control him. He was mocking _them_... and they were so inflamed by their own jealousy over the good things this man had done, that they didn't even care!]

[Pilate never liked the Jews in the first place and when they come to him with things like this; it makes him even more hateful of them.]

[Jesus said there's going to be a war!]

[Yes, this is true. He did say that.]

[It's coming. Pilate gave them Barabbas.]

[The leader of the... _insurrection;_ if that's what you'd really want to call it?]

[Yeah...?] Cornelius shook his head. [Do you remember Adalwolf?]

[You mean Goliath the centurion?] Ignatius laughed as Cornelius shooed the comment away.

[He was present for that... _insurrection._ ] Cornelius continued. [He was here for the last Passover; the Passover before this one.]

[I was in Rome. I have no idea what happened last year.]

[I heard they got caught with someone's body parts, sir.] Horatio added. [That's why Pilate sent us into the temple. I didn't see the evidence myself, because I was not under command of the centurion that was sent.] Horatio turned to Cornelius. [What was his name, do you remember sir?]

[Claudius. He got sent back to Rome to testify as to what happened that allegedly precipitated this insurrection.] Cornelius explained. [The Sanhedrin claim that isn't what happened; and this is why Pilate is on probation.]

[I remember Adalwolf talking about this about 6 months after I got back.] Ignatius shook his finger in the air of recollection. [He said they believed it was some merchant that disappeared from Corinth.]

[And Barabbas was arrested for the insurrection that took place after that incident.] Horatio nodded.

[Yes, 'son of the teacher'] Cornelius confirmed. [Or... as they claim; son of Abba?]

[No!] Ignatius started laughing. [In Hebrew, Barabbas doesn't mean anything. It's an Aramaic transliteration of a Hebrew transliteration of Persian name. The Persian name means 'father of the winepress'. Abagtha; which is the Persian name, was a eunuch who was the keeper of the wine in the Persian court, back before the Greeks conquered the Persian empire.]

[Really sir? Well isn't that interesting?]

[I guess the Aramaic name really does mean 'son of the teacher'] Ignatius continued. [Before any of this happened, Pilate told me of a Rabbi up in the North; Galilean maybe? Anyways, he's apparently been involved in staging several of these... insurrections.]

[Now that **_is_** fascinating!]

[Master Ignatius?] A servant politely approached. [There are some soldiers escorting two men, who are here to see the Centurion.]

[Who?]

[I believe they are of the Sanhedrin?] The servant answered.

[Sanhedrin? What would they want with you; at this hour?]

Ignatius glanced at Cornelius as he and Horatio got up to investigate. They'd only been gone a few moments, when two men I recognized came walking into the dining hall. It was Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea.

[It's true! She is here.]

Nicodemus pointed at me as Ignatius laid a book _I recognized_ on the table. It was my Interlinear Bible. _Apparently someone had found my car!_ Nicodemus held tightly to my Hebrew word study Bible, as Joseph clenched my Greek New Testament study Bible.

[Cepheus came to us at the tomb, after everyone except the guard had left.]

[Yes, he gave us these books.]

[Cepheus, the cemetery caretaker's son?] Cornelius inquired.

[Yes, he found some sort of... chariot?]

[And inside were these books.]

Nicodemus nodded nervously.

[We took them to my apartment and... began to read them.]

[They're history books.]

[History books?] Ignatius opened the Bible.

[Yes, they talk about... _us_ ; and what just happened.]

[And the future! What is going to happen in the future is written in these books!]

[Yes, and it's not written as prophecy. It's... history; a historical chronicle in plain Greek!]

[What's it about?] Ignatius looked at these strangers in his dining hall.

[Everything! Jesus; the trial; the crucifixion. It's all there; even down to us burying him.]

[Which happened... what - six hours ago?]

[I guess she really is from the future.] Cornelius mumbled in dumbstruck awe.

[Yes, but if this really is a chronicle of what happens; she's not named in any of these books. So she somehow must go back to where she came from?]

[But _we_ are named in these books! Both of us.] Jospeh gestured between himself and Nicodemus.

[You are also named.] Nicodemus pointed to Cornelius. [Pilate is named. Caiaphas is named. Saul of Tarsus is named! All of these of Jesus's followers are named; even though I have no idea who any of them are?]

[And you came here?] Ignatius inquired. [Looking for her?]

[Well, not really...] Nicodemus answered.

[We didn't want anyone else to find these books.] Joseph added.

[Yes, according to Pharisaic law; we've already broken the Sabbath as it is. We've walked too many steps to get here.] Nicodemus sighed in resignation.

[So, you've become law breakers now? Outcasts; with a book that says...] Ignatius put his hand to his forehead, closed his eyes and struck a prophetic stance. [Don't tell me. Jesus comes back from the dead!]

Cornelius and Horatio started chuckling as Nicodemus and Jospeh just glared at them.

[Yeshua Ha Mashiach.] Joseph repeated as he gestured at me.

Again - how do you... **_Romans_** know these things?

[We too have put a lot of our own conclusions together in the past 12 hours.]

Ignatius reassured them before he turned his attention to one of his house servants. [Fetch some plates and utensils for them; then ring the nannies to help with the children.] He sent them off with an approving gesture.

[Now.] He turned back to these frazzled and frightened council members. [If you... be so willing to sit down with tax collectors and sinners, to discuss what this book says about...] Ignatius paused a moment before cracking the Bible open to a random page and began to read.

[...in the world he was, and the world through him came into being; and the world him not knew. To these own he came, and these own him have not claimed. As many however as take hold of him; he gave those authority as children of God to become. To those all, believing in the name of him.]

Joseph and Nicodemus came to the table and meekly sat down.


	34. Clue - Do you want to play a game?

**Clue - Shall we play a game?**

[So what should we do?] Joseph looked at Nicodemus, who just sat shaking his head in profound indecision.

[Are you two in danger?] Cornelius made a direct inquiry.

[I don't know?] One answered while the other just let out a troubled shrug.

[Does anyone besides the two of you know about this?]

[My wife.] Nicodemus answered. [My daughter, her husband and our two grandsons are in the apartment too.]

[How old are the kids? Do they understand any of this?]

[I don't know?] Nicodemus answered worriedly. [One's over 12. The other is only 4 though.]

[So they'd try the older one, if it came to that?]

[Yes.]

Ignatius began to think out loud. [If we have to make them disappear?] He turned to Cornelius. [What would be the easiest way to do that?]

[Well, there's a couple of choices.] Cornelius contemplated. [We could arrest them, but being Roman citizens; the charges would have to be decided by Caesar.]

[So we'd have to send them to Rome; make them disappear in the process and Pilate would have to be complicit in all of this?]

[Yes.]

[Do they think you stole the body? After all, it is your tomb.]

[No. Caiaphas sent two priests and a guard who stood there and watched. They also recorded the soldiers all as witnesses when they sealed the tomb.]

[Really? Well isn't that interesting!] Cornelius raised an eyebrow at Nicodemus.

[They're scared of a dead man sir.] Horatio chuckled.

[One who according to this book, isn't going to be dead very long.]

[Herod the Great understood the Messiah was to be born in Bethlehem.] Ignatius shook his finger at Nicodemus. [Do they know any of these prophecies?]

[Yes. They know them all. They are more convinced than even his own disciples that he'll come back from the dead. That's why they are doing all this.]

[Well, they can't kill all the witnesses; and I'm sure people will be looking for Jesus.]

[I really don't understand why they'd want to kill any witnesses at that point, sir?] Horatio looked at Cornelius.

[Well, it's a pretty scary proposition even for us, to think God has walked among us and we missed it.]

[Ohhh, but don't make that mistake.] Nicodemus declared as he pointed at the military men [We haven't missed anything. We know who he is. We've known that for a long time.]

[Than why kill him?] Horatio swung around.

[Well, according to this book; we are a wicked generation.] Joseph despairingly whispered, as he looked down into my Interlinear Bible. [Even according to our own Scriptures, we are a wicked generation.]

I leaned over and read where he was pointing.

"We're all wicked." I suddenly declared as I reached across the table and grabbed the Greek New Testament. "Romans 3; here, read it." I slid the book to Joseph. He glanced down at where I was pointing and began to read the Greek aloud.

"That's Psalm 53." I explained as I flipped through the Interlinear Bible and pointed Nicodemus to that passage. When Joseph finished reading and he and Nicodemus compared notes; they all looked at me.

"Now this one." I pointed as I began flipping pages until I got to Romans 9. "Who's Israel?"

[Israel are those who obey God] Nicodemus turned to Joseph. [He told me that.]

[He told all of us that.]

[No, he told me that specifically.] Nicodemus mumbled; looking like he'd just seen a ghost. [That night I went and talked to him... how many years ago?] He stared at the book. [This is almost like it quotes what he said to me... In Isaac your seed will be called.]

Nicodemus paused a moment before he began flipping through the pages of the Old Testament.

[Here... here.] He pointed to passages in Daniel as he pushed the book in my direction. [These numbers? What do they mean?] He inquired of me.

I looked at where he was pointing, before he slid the New Testament back my way.

"Herod the Great." I answered as I flipped through Matthew 2 and pointed to the respective passages. "There are 1290 days from the angel telling Zachariah that Elizabeth was going to have John; to Herod killing the babies in Bethlehem." I paused a moment to flip pages. "Then there are 2300 days from the angel telling Zachariah; to Jesus coming back from Egypt." I looked up at them. "This is all the same king who... 'understands dark sayings'." I quoted into the air. "This verse talks about the Prince of the covenant. That one talks about Him being killed." I pointed as Nicodemus read. "It could only be the Herods; and Herod the Great died in 4 B.C."

[We knew that.] Nicodemus nodded to Joseph as he pointed to the passage.

[Herod knew that.] Joseph answered. [How's she know that?]

They both looked up at me.

[Jesus said it was... that Spirit.] Ignatius began to chuckle.

[Spirit?] Joseph and Nicodemus echoed in unison.

[Yeah, don't you even listen to your own Messiah?] Cornelius slapped the table as he shot them a sarcastic glare and let out a laugh; unable to pass up a moment of taunting them. [Sending the Spirit that leads in all truth.]

[Think they were absent that day in school.] Ignatius smirked.

"Ruach Ha' Kodesh" Cornelius turned to me as he twirled a finger in the air and slapped my arm. [Where is that in here?] He pointed to the book.

"Ehh errr... John 16? Acts 2?" I flashed him a bit of an inquisitive... yet mildly distorted idiotic expression.

Horatio and Ignatius laughed.

"Here. Read that." I pointed as I slid the book back to Nicodemus.

 ** _I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now. Howbeit when he, the Spirit of truth, is come, he will guide you into all truth: for he shall not speak of himself; but whatsoever he shall hear, that shall he speak: and he will shew you things to come._**

Nicodemus and Joseph just looked at me and then each other.

[That Spirit again.] Cornelius muttered to Ignatius.

[Trouble maker!] Ignatius smirked.

 _There was a moment of silence._

[They know.] Joseph whispered.

[They know that we know.] Nicodemus whispered back.

Joseph suddenly sat up, as apparently some awesome and horrendous revelation struck him.

[They know too! Does that mean they are going to kill us?] He gulped.

[My wife!] Nicodemus suddenly began to panic. [Yes!] He answered Joseph as he jumped up from his place and hurriedly gathered his things. [We knew he was the Messiah and had him executed; there's nothing to stop them from killing us too!]

[Wait a minute!] Cornelius intervened as he swung around, grabbed Nicodemus by the back of his cloak and pulled him backwards. [We'll go.] He gestured between himself and Horatio. [They're not going to kill me. I can guarantee that!]

"I want to go!" I raised my hand to volunteer; even though I didn't actually know what they were talking about.

[Ignatius, where's your servant Hermon?] Cornelius turned quickly.

[Anthony came to get him earlier.]

[So he has the armor?]

[Yes.]

[House hold servants?] Cornelius posed another inquiry.

[I have 6 guards on premises now; I could spare two. Who would you like?]

[Ones who know centurion commands.]

[Mau Lay and Jasper] Ignatius pointed a decisive finger in the air.

[The Indian?] Cornelius made a funny face.

[Mongolian!] Ignatius corrected him. [He was a gladiator. I won him in a bet!] He laughed. [Hang on.] Ignatius scooted off his couch and hurried toward the atrium door.

[A gladiator?] Horatio flashed Cornelius in inquisitive look.

[And one he won in a bet!] Cornelius snickered.

[In a bet sir!] Horatio whispered. [He has the luck doesn't he?]

[Overly prolific in female relatives and servants won in bets.] Cornelius smiled.

[Like that slave he tried to give to Jesus.]

[Now that... was almost as funny as the niece. What was Jesus going to do with a slave?]

[Well, we knew what he wouldn't do.] Horatio muttered under his breath as Cornelius paused a moment and flashed him an exaggerated Greek tragedy actor's gape.

[You know, I've heard more eunuch jokes about that man than anyone else!] Cornelius quipped.

[What have **_I_ ** ever won in a bet?] Horatio complained to himself. [ **Nothing!** ]

[I won you in a bet.] Cornelius smirked at Horatio.

[You won him in a bet?] Ignatius inquired upon his hasty return.

[No, sir he didn't.] Horatio answered dryly, while Cornelius and Ignatius had a good chuckle over it.

A few men assembled in the triclinia entrance as Ignatius hurried back to give them instructions. Cornelius and Horatio sauntered over to inspect the troops, when I got up to investigate too. Ignatius's men looked at each other; Horatio, Cornelius and than at me. Ignatius dismissed them with a few final instructions, before he turned back to us.

"Oooh oooh!" I stuck my hand in the air as I volunteered once more. "I still want to go." I pointed at Horatio.

[Should we take her too, sir?] Horatio glanced at Cornelius.

[Would she give us the field glasses if we do?] Cornelius smirked.

[I doubt it sir.] Horatio smirked back.

[Oh ye of so little faith, Horatio.] Ignatius broke, in as he suddenly stuck out his hand. [ _Sure..._ she would...]

Cornelius began to laugh as he slapped Horatio on the back. [You wanna bet?] He gestured at Ignatius's outstretched hand.

Horatio only flashed them both a wary look.

They began to giggle as Horatio let out a sigh and half a smile. At least he was willing to take a little ribbing.

[Hey, she could take the child if need be.] Cornelius declared his confirmation vote.

[Sir, you can have the field glasses if she'll give me the singing box.] Horatio joked.

[The singing box?] Ignatius inquired.

[You mean... **_you_ ** didn't see the singing box?] Cornelius looked surprised.

Ignatius shook his head.

[Last time I saw the singing box sir, Jesus had it.]

[And what do you suppose he... _did_ with it?] Cornelius glanced at Horatio as his eyes wandered about. He inquisitively rubbed his chin before he pointed to Ignatius. [Maybe he hid it in _your_ house!]

[What is it?] Ignatius raised an eyebrow.

[It's this little rectangular thing that plays instruments and sings.]

[That's what I thought she was going to do.] Cornelius gestured, before he started to giggle and mimicked me by sticking his hand in the air. [Oooh Oooh...]

"Oooh Oooh; Mistta... Kristos" I smirked before breaking into a jingle.

 ** _Welcome back; You're dreams were your ticket out._**

 ** _Welcome back; To that same old place that you... cried about._**

 ** _And I smile when I think how you must have been._**

 ** _Was there something that made you come back again?_**

 ** _And who'd a thought they'd lead ya_**

 ** _(Who'd a thought they'd lead ya)_**

 ** _Back here where we need ya_**

 ** _(Back here where we need ya)_**

 ** _Yeah we tease him a lot 'cause we got him on the spot_**

 ** _Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back..._**

 _(theme song - Welcome back Kotter)_


	35. Bloody Sabbath

**Bloody Sabbath**

I'd hastily changed into something I could actually run in, while we'd packed up disguises for our soon to be charges; as well as a few _'extras'_ that had _'mysteriously'_ found their way out of my car. We hurriedly assembled our things once the servants came back equipped for what ever our next adventure was to be.

Joseph sat quietly as Nicodemus was wringing his hands. I wiggled my fingers for him to come to me and I snatched his Tallit.

[Don't worry. We'll find your wife and grandkids.] Cornelius reassured him. [OK, Let's move out.]

We hurried quietly through the city streets; as there wasn't much anyone would object over a couple of military men and a handful of servants. Horatio slapped Cornelius and pointed down an ally.

Yes, Cornelius gestured in return as we all stealthily slipped off one by one. We came up the back of Herod's palace and hurried along the wall until Cornelius recognized another path he was apparently looking for. This led us through a small grove of trees; out next to the western wall of the temple complex.

Suddenly, we heard commotion, what sounded like a muffled scream and some persons running our way!

We hopped the steps and waited for them to pass before we scampered up to the court of the gentiles' walkway on the back end of the temple. From there, the rest of the 3 of us stood guard as Cornelius and Horatio surveyed the grounds below us; _with a little help from some contraband 20th century technology!_ They counted buildings to find Nicodemus's apartment.

[Come.] Cornelius signaled as we ran crouched just below the wall and down another set of stairs.

We slipped by one at a time, as Horatio stood guard and signaled the coast was clear. We followed this pattern between apartments just outside Herod's court yard and the high priest's palace. Once the apartment in question was noted, we encircled a quick scout making sure the others were gone; before Cornelius jumped in a window.

The rest of us weren't far behind and I clicked on a flash light.

We suddenly heard a gasp.

[There. I see him.] Horatio pointed.

"Got him." I answered as I handed the flashlight off and grabbed the child.

I pulled grandpa's Tallit out of my bag and wrapped the frightened boy in it.

"Here." I tossed the bag to one of the other men, as they drew their weapons and followed Cornelius into the next room.

It wasn't much more than 5 minutes when they filed back in… empty handed. Horatio flashed the light on Cornelius who drew his finger across his neck. A screech of terror escaped my young charge at the sight of him.

"OK" I sighed. Apparently we were too late; the rest of the family was already dead.

Too frightened to make any more noise; the boy pulled grandpa's shawl up over his head… _to pray I hoped._ I fished through the bag for one last cloak to wrap the child in, before I handed him to one of the servants and hopped out the window myself.

The men took turns shadowing me, as we scurried back across the palace grounds toward the wall and the grove of trees we'd emerged from about 20 minutes prior. Once back into the city streets, Cornelius took the night vision goggles off and stuffed them back into my bag; while Horatio snooped.

[Those are mine] Cornelius growled. [Go away.]

We calmly walked back to Ignatius house in eerie silence. It seemed unusually cold and I snuggled the tiny boy; who I could tell was trying really hard to be brave, as he sniffled and stroked grandpa's Tallit between his fingers.

[Well I guess that answers our question sir.] Horatio muttered dryly.

[Yep.] Cornelius only sighed in resignation. [These people are sick.]

Ignatius servants lead us up the rear walk and into the back door. There I could hear worried footsteps running toward us. Jospeh emerged first into my line of sight, followed by Nicodemus; who once he saw we only had the youngest boy, dropped to his knees and howled in agony. His grandson jumped out of my arms and it was then I got my first gander at the ordeal this child had endured.

He was covered in blood.

Little bloody foot prints trailed across the floor as the rest of us just stood in shock listening to Nicodemus wail as he clenched his grandson.

[Who else can we murder on this bloody Passover?] Ignatius muttered to Cornelius.

[This is just the beginning.] Cornelius answered. [Just the beginning.]

 _The drums from the opening bars of a U2 song began to pound in my head._

Horatio followed Cornelius as the servants also began to file out of the room. There I stood staring at Joseph, who still stood in helpless shock while Nicodemus sobbed.

 _ **I can't believe the news today.**_

 _ **Oh, I can't close my eyes and make it go away.**_

 _ **How long, how long must we sing this song. How long? How long?**_

 _ **Cause tonight, we can be as one. Tonight! Tonight.**_

Joseph quietly sat down and gingerly laid his hand on Nicodemus's shoulder.

 _ **Broken bottles under children's feet.**_

 _ **Bodies strewn across the dead end street.**_

 _ **But I won't heed the battle call.**_

 _ **It puts my back up, puts my back up against the wall.**_

 _ **Sunday bloody Sunday…..**_

I let out a sigh, walked over and sat down too.

 _ **And the battle's just begun,**_

 _ **This many have lost, but tell me who has won?**_

 _ **The trench is dug within our hearts;**_

 _ **And mothers, children brothers sisters torn apart.**_

 _ **How long, how long must we sing this song. How long? How long?**_

 _ **Cause tonight we can be as one; tonight! tonight!**_

The little boy picked up his head and stared hauntingly at me.

 _ **Wipe the tears from your eyes.**_

 _ **Wipe your tears away.**_

 _ **Wipe your tears away.**_

 _ **I'll wipe your tears away.**_

 _ **Sunday bloody Sunday; Sunday bloody Sunday.**_

His little hollow eyes turned toward Joseph.

 _ **And it's true we are immune;**_

 _ **When fact is fiction and TV reality.**_

 _ **And today the millions cry.**_

 _ **We eat and drink while tomorrow they die!**_

Joseph started to cry.

 _ **The real battle's yet begun; to claim the victory Jesus won…..**_


	36. The Truth Shall Set you Free

**The Truth Shall Set you Free!**

[So, how are they?] Ignatius inquired as a weary Joseph stumbled back into the sitting garden of the peristylium where the rest of us waited for... dawn? _I suppose?_

[They're both asleep.] Joseph replied as he collapsed in the chair next to Ignatius and stared up into the starlit sky. [Can't believe this is happening.] He quietly sniffled.

[We will inquire of things in Arimathea tomorrow.] Ignatius reached out to reassure Joseph. [I will send a messenger to Pilate.]

 _The two sat in the flickering fire light just looking at each other a long moment; before Joseph turned away._

[I'm sorry he destroyed your pottery.] He whispered.

[They murdered the man's family.] Ignatius muttered an almost angry response. [I'm not worried about a statue!]

Joseph remained quiet for a moment before he suddenly erupted.

[But _WE._. are suppose to act justly. We are suppose to be the ones who act rightly and this is what we get for our own wickedness.] Joseph sucked in an angry sob. [We reap what we sow.]

[That book says there's none righteous.] Ignatius pointed.

[But we're suppose to expect more of ourselves than you.] Joseph shot back a theological litany. [My people who I've called of the least of the nations. You will have no other Gods before me. Make no idols. Remember the Sabbath. Be separate. Be holy. I'm not even suppose to be sitting in this house, none the less eating what you give me. How many exhortations have I heard about the dirty goyim...]

[And _**we're**_ not the ones who murdered the... _**Pharisee's**_ family.] Horatio growled.

Joseph stopped short, without even the courage to look at any of us.

[No, you're not.] He whimpered.

 _A servant hurried over when I began to poke at the fire. Ignatius and Cornelius chuckled as I shooed him away with the simple gesture, just to bring more wood. He dutifully retrieved more fuel._

[All of some Rabbi who preached love your enemies; resist not evil and turn the other cheek.]

[He wasn't talking about murderers!] Jospeh blurted out. [That law in Leviticus; an eye for an eye. That's talking about those who cause harm on account of their own foolish negligence. Resist not hardship. Don't seek vengeance. Criminals though are to be executed. That's what the law says!]

[And you don't think Rome understands that?] Horatio started to laugh while Ignatius and Cornelius snickered along.

[That's not what I mean!] Jospeh yelled in frustration.

[We know what you mean.] Ignatius answered calmly, yet sternly.

[Yes, it's true. We live in a blood thirsty world; one of little love and mercy.] Cornelius interceded. [How many battles have I fought? How many enemies have I killed and how many of my own men have I watched die before my face? I'm lucky to be here.] He turned toward Joseph. [I know he wasn't talking about letting evil run ramped. John first told men to repent and Jesus was no different in that regard.]

[Yes! Repent and believe; for without holiness, no one will see God.] Ignatius added. [That's in that book too.]

[Than he says forgive. Do any of you know what that means?] Joseph searched around us all; apparently hoping someone would understand.

[Bring forth; to send forward; to lift up.] Cornelius laughed as he cracked open the New Testament and held it up. [But what are you sending forward and who are you sending it forward to? I'm not a Hebrew scholar, but I do like to think I speak Greek well enough.] He handed the book to Joseph.

[No! You're an ignorant heathen dog!] Ignatius smirked, pointing accusingly at Cornelius as Cornelius peered back at him and jokingly barked in response.

[Yes, we understand, it's not a human authority.] Horatio amended as he handed the book to Joseph.

[No, it's not a human authority. We are sending forward unto God, who says let vengeance be mine. Are we also misunderstanding the meaning of vengeance? How is a holy God vengeful?] Ignatius posed another question. [If God does not transgress His own law; what does that verse mean?] He pointed. [And can men be... holy vengeful too; seeing how your own Scriptures say we are created in His image?]

Joseph only sat dumbfounded staring at the words before him.

[You mean us goyim too... sir?] Horatio flashed Cornelius a subtle idiotic grin.

[Shut up heathen dogs.] Ignatius pointed with a smirk. [By the way, are you a Roman citizen yet?] He raised an eyebrow to Cornelius.

[I've surpassed 25 years of service; yes sir! I'm entitled to a trial now.] Cornelius pointed back.

[Good, you've stepped up in this world and since we can't crucify you now; I better stop calling you a heathen dog.] Igantus chuckled.

[We don't crucify soldiers anyways.] Horatio politely corrected. [Citizen or not; that's the law.]

[Ahh... And we like to think we are a lawful people.] Ignatius raised a finger.

[Yes sir, that _**is**_ indeed... what we like to think.] Cornelius chuckled.

[How do you know these things?] Joseph whispered in quiet awe.

I still had no idea what they were actually saying; but with the frequent pointing and reference to my books, I did get a sense of the basic conversation. Also, the fact that Joseph _(this learned member of high council of the Sanhedrin)_ was often left speechless, of how these gentiles were responding to his questions. It was a rather intriguing dichotomy to witness; as I kept stoking the fire a bit, while flipping passages by flashlight.

I could at least read the translation from the passages they pointed to and I started to wonder what I could possibly learn from their discussions of law, justice and mercy? After all, I came from a time and place where lawlessness seemed forever on the rise and all in the name of 'tolerance' and 'social justice'. Not that I thought these ideals were bad conceptually speaking; but it ever remained quite obvious to me, that Rome exerted a level of authority that could not be ignored.

If tyranny is exercised justly; is it still tyranny?

I was starting to realize; that I would now beg to argue with that question. Although I knew these authorities never wholly exercised justice as God would; (how could they without His omniscience) I was starting to realize justice was still rightful in God's eyes, even beyond our secular definition of forgiveness.

So what is... real forgiveness? I started to wonder, as I was really beginning to wish I could just ask and get a simple answer.

I leaned over a bit and was peering at what Joseph was reading, when I interrupted him a minute and pointed to a word of this anonymous passage in Leviticus.

"Forgiven" I mumbled.

Without missing a beat; Joseph pointed to another word - Atonement!

[So shall make atonement for him the priest concerning his sin - and it shall be forgiven him.] Joseph read.

A few verses down the page, I pointed again. Joseph pointed the response. It was the same phrase: '...so shall make atonement for him the priest...'

"Forgiveness; atonement." I mumbled to myself. "Forgiveness is predicated upon atonement."

Joseph looked at me and then Ignatius.

[I think she's saying one can only be forgiven when atoned for.] He explained. [Which is correct from the standpoint of God's justice.]

[So if God doesn't forgive someone, does that mean we have to?] Ignatius raised an inquiry. [After all, if God never disobeys His own commands; what makes us think He'd require of us, something He doesn't do Himself?]

[By law you are absolutely correct.] Joseph answered. [God would not command us to do something He doesn't do.]

[But what did Jesus mean by mercy than?] Cornelius asked. [I mean, I'm all for justice and not excusing my enemies; or at least the really obnoxious ones.] He thumped the arm of his chair.

[If forgiveness is only attained through atonement; than forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors doesn't make any sense.] Ignatius thought a'loud. [Because the forgiveness of their debt is not dependent on our ability to forgive; but whether or not they are atoned for.]

[Yes, that is correct.] Jospeh nodded. [Unless the debtors are also atoned for, that phrase makes no sense.]

[How do you know who's atoned for though?] Cornelius posed another question.

[We don't] Joseph answered. [We bear not the omniscience of God.]

[Yet, if forgive means to send forth or lift up;] Horatio spontaneously offered. [Than what your actually doing, is lifting that debt to the judgement of one who's above your pay grade.]

[What?] Joseph suddenly looked at Horatio.

[Spoken like a true soldier!] Cornelius slapped Horatio. [You don't have the authority, so send it up the chain of command!] He pointed at Jospeh. [That's what it means to forgive.]

[I would agree with that.] Ignatius nodded as he gestured at Horatio. [Pretty smart for having won in a bet.]

[You won him in a bet?] Joseph looked at Cornelius.

[No, he did not win me in a bet.] Horatio mumbled through gritted teeth. [Stop bearing false witness... sir.] He glared at Cornelius.

[He said it.] Cornelius laughed as he pointed at Ignatius.

[Yeah, another one spoken like a true soldier.] Horatio made a face at Cornelius. [Passing the pale of dung!]

[Hey, that only gets passed _down_ the chain of command; not up!]

[Their civilians, they don't count sir.] Horatio smiled. [Looks like your left holding the dung.]

[Oh but we can still come under military authority as subjects of Caesar.] Ignatius added. [The Senate actually voted on that.]

[True, and you can also stand by military tribunal.] Cornelius answered. [So would you like a bucket of dung... sir?]

[Only with Pilate's permission to dump it on someone's head.] Ignatius answered without missing a beat.

[And who would that be... sir?]

[Caiaphas?]

[No, Herod!]

 _They all laughed._

The hour drifted on as they chattered a bit more banter, before it was obvious that we were all starting to fade. How much sleep any of us had gotten in the past 48 hours; I wasn't sure? It didn't seem to matter though, since this all felt like a dream any ways.

Forgiveness... forgiveness is predicated upon atonement. I sat thinking. Who is atoned for and how do you know? The questions popped up like the 'wack a mole' game I apparently was loosing.

Well, all we know of the atoned in this life, is of who actually repents and believes. I at least knew the theological answer to that question. And so we give it up to God; because He's the only one who knows... eternally speaking at least.

So, who is forgiven and now what is forgiveness... not? I pondered some more as I watched the servants scurrying around at Ignatius command. Forgiveness obviously does not mean the state abdicates its God given right to punish the criminal. I suddenly realized; _of which on some level I already knew that?_

So what of someone like my brother? I questioned as I thought of what Jesus said to me about the 'execute the rapist passage' in Deuteronomy. Should I be praying for justice to prevail; of only but for the sake of stoping him from racking up more victims? I started to wonder; since it never seemed 'praying for his salvation' ever 'worked'? If God says 'let vengeance be mine'; is there something wrong with praying for that vengeance - if it so be God's will?

Well, if it be His will; I guess not?

I stared bleary eyed at my Bible; all the while thinking to myself, if the answer is in there, it will probably be in the psalms somewhere?

 ** _O Lord my God, in thee do I put my trust: save me from all them that persecute me, and deliver me:_**

 ** _Lest he tear my soul like a lion, rending it in pieces, while there is none to deliver._**

 ** _O Lord my God, If I have done this; if there be iniquity in my hands;_**

 ** _If I have rewarded evil unto him that was at peace with me; (yea, I have delivered him that without cause is mine enemy:)_**

 ** _Let the enemy persecute my soul, and take it; yea, let him tread down my life upon the earth, and lay mine honor in the dust. Selah._**

 ** _Arise, O Lord, in thine anger, lift up thyself because of the rage of mine enemies: and awake for me to the judgment that thou hast commanded._**

 ** _So shall the congregation of the people compass thee about: for their sakes therefore return thou on high._**

 ** _The Lord shall judge the people: judge me, O Lord, according to my righteousness, and according to mine integrity that is in me._**

 ** _Oh let the wickedness of the wicked come to an end; but establish the just: for the righteous God tries the hearts and reins._**

 ** _My defense is of God, which saves the upright in heart._**

 ** _God judges the righteous, and God is angry with the wicked every day._**

 ** _If he turn not, he will whet his sword; he hath bent his bow, and made it ready._**

 ** _He hath also prepared for him the instruments of death; he ordains his arrows against the persecutors._**

 ** _Behold, he travails with iniquity, and hath conceived mischief, and brought forth falsehood._**

 ** _He made a pit, and dug it, and is fallen into the ditch which he made._**

 ** _His mischief shall return upon his own head, and his violent dealing shall come down upon his own pate._**

 ** _I will praise the Lord according to his righteousness: and will sing praise to the name of the Lord most high._**

 ** _(Psalm 7)_**


	37. Pilate's Red Pill

**Pilate's Red Pill**

I awoke with a start, jumped out of my 'bed' _(actually off a couch of sorts)_ and scurried down the stairs. Don't tell me I missed it. No. NO! I didn't sleep through it - did I? Please tell me I didn't sleep through the resurrection! I stood panicked, as I stared across the atrium and the many doors that flanked it's space.

A familiar form emerged from one of the rooms; scurrying across the floor chasing some rolling object. It was Nicodemus's grandson; except his hair had been cut and he was wearing a Roman toga. Next form to come chasing him was... a shorter, thicker version of Ignatius? I did a double take before I realized; no, that's actually Nicodemus. He too was clad in Roman apparel with shorter hair and a shaven face. Apparently too, some of the women had taken hold of him; as his hair had been dyed.

The escape plan had been hatched it seemed; when it suddenly dawned on me - yeah, it was still Saturday.

Following Nicodemus, emerged Horatio and another centurion I whom I didn't recognize: _or did I?_ I began to question as I inched closer.

[But I'm not a soldier.] He complained.

[You will learn to be well enough to pull this off.] Horatio answered. [We will help you. Once we get to Caesarea; a ship will take you to Crete. From there Ignatius's son-in-law Jamal will come find you; you can be a civilian again and Jamal will take you and Nicodemus from there to Hispania; than on to Britannia, if you wish to go that far?]

[The good faith of God will be with us.] Nicodemus reassured as he picked up his grandson and walked toward the other two men. [The book says the gospel of Christ will spread. I'm sure the Holy Ghost will find us.] He chuckled a bit.

[OK, come on.] Cornelius motioned as he was the next to emerge from the dining hall. [You get a crash course in how to guard him.] He gestured at Nicodemus as this other ... centurion followed he and Horatio.

Fascinating. I observed as I watched Joseph tag along behind the other two. He was taller, older and more stately than Nicodemus and in another life, I could have almost imagined him being a soldier. Cornelius requested Horatio's sword as he stood in the hall, halfway between the atrium's exit and garden's entrance. He began to swing it, doing tricks of sorts to demonstrate it's balance. He handed it to Joseph, who took up the demonstrated stance and began to practice. He was a quick study, I noted as he followed the instructions, as well as inquiring of useful questions.

[Because of your age, no one will expect you to do much soldiering; but you will have to know basics. He will go with you.] He pointed to Horatio. [And I will go ahead of you. We still have to secure lodging and a place to hide you two. Word will spread fast; it's already started.]

[OK] Joseph sighed soberly. [So what do you want me to learn?]

[The most important lesson you are going to learn from us; is how to kill someone if you have to.]

[Yes, very important skill to have.] Horatio added. [It's all in the mindset.]

Joseph sucked in a breath. [OK.] He nodded.

They continued talking as my attention turned toward Nicodemus and his grandson. All three looked very different in their emerging transformation into Romans.

"Deus." Nicodemus rehearsed with his grandson. "Deus."

"Avus" - "Avus"; "Miles" - "Miles"; "Hebraica" - "Hebraica"; "Salem" - "Salem".

I followed him into the dining room where I was met by another utter shock. Standing next to Ignatius; (who was pointing and reading passages out of my Interlinear Bible) was none other than... Pontius Pilate. They both looked up at me.

[So she is the one?]

[Yes.]

[You're right, she does look like a Britannian.]

[Yes, Jesus had stated that her ancestors are from there.]

[He told you this?]

[Yes.]

Pilate let out a sigh, sat down and stared blankly at my Bible.

[Well, it's obvious she is not from around here.] He motioned at the items on the table. [We certainly don't have the ability to produce a document like this. And... what is the word you used?] He peered up at Ignatius as he picked up my flashlight.

[She calls it technology.]

[Technology.]

[And how did they find the bodies in the dark?]

[These.] Ignatius reached across the table.

[What are they?]

[It's something her army uses. She calls them night vision glasses.]

[And you can see in the dark?] Pilate held the goggles up to his face.

[Yes.]

[How?]

[You can see the heat a body gives off.] Ignatius explained. [Anything; humans, cats, dogs,... rodents. They pick up the light of torches too.]

[And this is how they got in and out of the apartment so fast and knew those people were dead?]

[Yes. It's also how they found his grandson.] Ignatius motioned to Nicodemus. [They could see him hiding in the corner.]

[And he was covered in blood, but he wasn't injured?]

[That is correct. We only noticed it when they brought him here though.]

Pilate let out another sigh as he peered up at Nicodemus's grandson, who was clinging to his grandpa.

[Young man.] Pilate stood up seemingly trying to be as diplomatic as possible. [Do you remember what happened last night?] He inquired in rather direct sternness.

The little boy nodded.

[Can you tell me?]

[They banged the door.] The boy fidgeted a bit as he stared at the floor. [They yelling at grandma.] The child twitched. [They runned. Momma... me.] He made a swooping motion. [She fall.] He looked up at Pilate. [They hit and scream... and cut.] He made a stabbing motion. [Then runned away.] He shuttered a bit as he rubbed his hands on his chest.

[Clean Goy.] He mumbled as he kept wiping his toga and than his arms. Nicodemus tried to calm his grandson's increasing anxiety; when the boy suddenly stopped and looked directly at Pilate [Judah... dead.] He suddenly declared.

Nicodemus let out a stunned gasp.

Pilate only slowly nodded.

[Yes... They are.. dead.] He confirmed.

Pilate sunk back down into a chair and quietly rested his head on the table.

[You can take the child out of the room now.] He whispered.

Nicodemus sucked back a sob, refraining to the best of his ability from bursting into tears, as he clenched his grandson in his arms and retreated from the dinning hall. Ignatius sent one of his guards to follow.

[That apartment was a mess.] Pilate sucked in a deep breath, before he sat up and looked at Ignatius. [It was a hit job. They didn't steal anything as far as we can tell. There was a silver charger sitting right on the table. There sole intent was to murder those people.]

[And from where Cornelius indicated that they'd found the 4 year old; we imagine they would have killed him too if they could have found him in the dark.]

Pilate nodded. [I've seen battles and I've seen crucifixions; but I've never seen anything like that!] He sucked in another breath. [I've seen people jump off the city wall. Soldiers get into really bad fights; but these people were slaughtered like animals. There was even blood splattered on the ceiling.] He stood up. [And now I got these idiots coming to me accusing Jesus's followers. They were Galileans. They were yelling at me. Yet these are the guys who buried this Jesus - Right!]

Ignatius nodded.

[They'd have no reason to kill this Pharisees's family.]

[No governor, they wouldn't.]

[Yet this book says they set me up and I can't do anything about it.]

Pilate sat back down staring at my Bible.

[Does she know what happens to me?] He mumbled as he gestured at me.

[I don't know.]

[Can you ask?]

[I can... try...]

Ignatius sucked in a deep breath as he motioned for me to come toward him. He pointed to Pilate and than to the Bible. I followed his hand signals, gestures words and sound effects until I got a pretty good understanding as to what he was asking. We kibitzed back and forth with a series of gestures and primitive timeline supplied with Roman numerals. Ignatius nodded as he continued to count out numbers. Then finally he let out one last sigh and commenced his explanation to Pilate.

[Well as far as I can gather... she says that according to Roman historical records, which are not in this book; you are called back to Rome about 3 years from now to give an account to Caesar. 2 years after that, you disappear from history. They have not found any records as to what happens to you.]

[There are no records as to whether or not I'm executed?]

[No, she said the emperor you are suppose to stand before, dies before you get there. There's no record of you standing trial for anything and there's no record of your death.]

[Not that it really matters] Pilate let out a sigh. [Because if it's already happened according to her timeline, it's not like I could change it anyways.]

[I don't know?]

[No that is the case.] Pilate sat up. [If all is according to this God, who knows the beginning from the end and it all has been divinely appointed. Than what's done in the future is already accomplished now. There's no changing it. We just wait to step up to our appointed time.]

[But if we know what's going to happen, than reason would say that we have the power to change it.]

[Not if it's really divinely predetermined we don't.]

[I don't understand.]

[Anything I do in our future, has already happened in her past; and if I had the ability to change that, than I'd effect changes that take place in her time. But since history is already set according to her time; what ever actions I take are already accounted for.]

[Hum...] Ignatius pondered a moment or two. [Well, I guess that does make some sense; but how would you know if you are making the right choice?]

[It doesn't matter.] Pilate threw his hands in the air. [Because what's appointed to unfold is inherent in the actions I take; no matter what they are.]

[So does that mean we have no free will?]

[No, because someone's knowledge of what will happen doesn't prevent my action; even if someone steps in to stop me.] Pilate answered. [I know that sounds strange, but that still doesn't change history as it has unfolded, to the very point of what ever decision I make.]

[Oh?] Ignatius pondered a moment to digest what Pilate had said. [Future proves the past. I think I see what you're saying.]

[Yes, in that sense future would prove the past. My future proves her past and her past proves my future.]

[Interesting. Time really isn't fluid then; is it?]

[I guess not?] Pilate shrugged. [Next question becomes how do we accept our place in history if we know we don't really change it?]

[Unless of course we are so predictable that predetermining our actions isn't that much of a challenge to God.] Ignatius chuckled.

[Well, I guess that's what it means to be omniscient.] Pilate flashed Ignatius an inquisitive scowl. [Still doesn't tell me what I should do in the present though.] He muttered.

[Do what you think is morally right.] Ignatius answered. [That's really the only thing you can do.]

[I'm not used to doing what's morally right though.] Pilate confessed. [I'm used to doing what gets the job done; because 'morally right' often isn't advantageous when you're dealing with people who have no morals.]

They both stood for a moment of contemplation before Ignatius sat down.

[Well, morally right for the sake of God's justice; doesn't mean you have to hold that conviction.] Ignatius began to think a'loud. [It's a preposterous position to be in; but if you want revenge, what better way to get it than use their own God against them.]

Pilate flashed Ignatius a funny look.

[Their own Scripture declares: Let vengeance be mine says the Lord. If you do what's lawful; that gives them no excuse when they come to have to answer to their God for what they did. And that just doesn't apply to Jesus and what they did to him, it also applies to you.]

[What they did to me.] Pilate nodded. [Or rather what they are going to do to me.] He shook his head as he starred at the floor a moment. [But that's not what I want to do.] Pilate muttered. [I want to slaughter these sons of... their father the devil...] His voice trailed off a moment and he let out a sigh.

[Well, we all have choices to make.] Ignatius shrugged in conclusion.

They sat quietly for another few moments before Pilate stood up.

[Yes, we all have choices to make.] Pilate agreed. [I just have to figure out what mine are now?] He folded his arms and scratched his head. [My investigation into these murders from this angle is done. It's obvious this Pharisee didn't kill his own family.]

[So, what's next?] Ignatius inquired.

[Stall until tomorrow morning.] Pilate laughed. [If Jesus really does come back from the dead; this would be a... significant shift in their...narrative.]

[Yes, that it would!] Ignatius smiled.

[Maybe in the wake of that melee some more leads will shake out.]

[Any suspects?]

[A couple of ideas.] Pilate muttered. [I had soldiers secure the apartment. I'm headed over there after I leave here, to see if any more clues have turned up.] He paused a moment as he glanced at me. [Wonder how they solve crimes in the future?] He chuckled. [Maybe she can help?]

[I don't know?] Ignatius shrugged.

Inquisitive Pilate spent another 10 or so minutes being distracted by the technology sitting on the table, before he'd decided it was time to try and go solve a murder. He exited the house wrapped in an air of stoic resignation; not seeming particularly anxious about the future, yet ready as he'd ever be to walk his part in this 'play'. I wondered what he knew, how much he'd read and what impact my presence would really have on history? Would I get back and find my own time totally different, just simply upon the fact that Pilate now too knew he sat on the cusp of an event that would change history.


	38. Risen in Deed

**Risen in Deed!**

The welcome cool of evening was approaching, as I snuck off to some corner of the garden to escape the incessant tantrums of Nicodemus's grandson. The child was beside himself; inconsolably wandering the house looking for his mother. Nicodemus tried to calm him; and so did Joseph, Ignatius, Helina, and most of the female members of Ignatius's household. Even Cornelius lent his attempts, but all the tike did was scream in terror at the sight of the military men.

This rather confused us all, for we were certain it wasn't Roman soldiers who were guilty of this crime; but what about Herod's private guard? Horatio raised the question to Cornelius. I'd recalled from Jesus trial, that they all appeared to be clad in maybe older surplus military garb? Change the color of the tunic underneath and they could pass as Roman soldiers; _especially to a terrified 4 year old._

The streets were getting chaotic again as Cornelius had gone to report these new developments to Pilate; as well as apparently wishing to escape the child's screeching. I could tell from their reactions that they suffered much in the same way I did from the noise. Soldiers with PTSD and screaming children usually don't make good combinations.

I had stood upon the roof earlier that day and watched this witch hunt brewing in the city; as what basically looked like small groups of thugs slinked from house to house searching for Galileans. _I'd supposed._ Soldiers were deployed to disperse anyone who appeared to be assembling for nefarious reasons and if this wasn't quite Pilate's version of martial law; I could tell we were getting close.

The day vacillated between boisterous and calm. Yet once again, soldiers were out in the streets herding the sheeple. Yes, there was stir being made of the bodies found in the priestly apartment; but more of what the commoners sought, was this tomb Roman soldiers were posted to guard. There had been multiple passersby I'd noted, as priests and members of the Sanhedrin lurked about for those they could 'scold' for their tomb seeking curiosity. Nothing to see here! Move along! The sound bites of 1st Century CNN announced; as they tried to distract the masses from the more notable murder they had committed.

Once again, my mind commenced wandering, and... of all things, back to the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960's. Now how pathetic would it have been if a bunch of southern black church leaders brought Martin Luther King to the police in Mississippi and said: "Here take this man, he's creating problems."

The police then tell them: "Don't worry, we'll give the boy a good whopping!" After this, the masses convince the Mississippi authorities to lynch King. The police ask: "You want us to lynch your leader?" And they all scream: "We have no leader but Jefferson Davis!" Now how whacked would that be? I cynically laughed. Yeah, but that is exactly what happened to Jesus!

Things seemed to have quieted as _(now after 3 hours)_ Nicodemus's grandson; Isaiah, had managed to scream himself into not much more than a whimper. I saw them as I entered the dinning hall in search of some thing that resembled fruit. Joseph was holding the child, as Ignatius attempted to comfort an exhausted and frazzled Pharisee who was once again trying desperately to control his own tears.

[Come on.] Ignatius instructed as he turned Nicodemus around and physically directed him out of the dinning room. [We will look after the boy while you get some sleep.]

 _Poor fellow. I thought to myself. The cost of discipleship was already exacting it's toll._

Dark seemed to be quickly descending, as I paced restlessly planning and pondering how I was going to get to the tomb. Helina seemed more interested in... or maybe of access to... me, as the fellas were all involved in their own planning and pondering of 'who done it'; and how to get Nicodemus, Joseph and little Isaiah out of the city. They were counting on the dark to aide them, as it seemed Ignatius had instructed some of his servants to gather provisions, that were now to near full muster on the dinning room table.

Helina had followed me up to the roof earlier, as I'd showed her where the tomb was and she observed the bored guards milling about trying to stay coherent by throwing pebbles at each other in a never ending game of 'can I annoy you more'? She'd indicated to me that she recognized some of the soldiers and she didn't think we'd be in any trouble of them, if we 'dropped by for a visit'. Well, I wasn't particularly interested in visiting the soldiers; as I knew they'd all be unconscious once the main event of history commenced. If I actually made it to 'the right place at the right time'; I'd be the only mortal human _I ever knew of,_ who actually witnessed the resurrection! I chuckled to myself.

Well, in trying to calm my restless anticipation; I settled down for a... power nap.

A trumpet volley woke me and just as I realized it was the first crowing of the cock; came Helina hurrying into my room. Torch in hand and eager for some adventure, she shoved a bag of vaguely familiar objects into my lap, as I slowly sat up and tried to focus. Once I was awake enough to actually see strait...

Come! She enthusiastically motioned.

Helina was clad as a female version of an auxiliary Roman defender. I'd seen a couple of these types of... 'civilian contractors' in Antonia as we were traipsing Jesus around half way between hither and... Thy Kingdom come! Apparently the Roman military had their own version of WAC's; I'd noted as the weapons they wielded were smaller lighter versions of typical soldier armaments.

Helina posted her torch a moment as she tossed me a belt with a dagger and a brown hooded woolen cloak that resembled an 18th century watch coat. She had a similar garment, she was in the process of fastening around her shoulders, while I was pulling mine on over my civilian clothing. She helped me with the belt, as I slung the bag over my shoulder, before she retrieved her torch and we were on our way.

I hoped Helina knew how to find her way around this city in the dark better than I did. Although I figured we wouldn't too easily miss a bunch of angels and someone rising from the dead; even if I didn't know exactly how to get to where we were going. I figured we could just look for the tomb with all the excitement!

We soon headed down the stairs and out the door; filled with anticipation of what we were about to witness. Maybe we'd get there in time to actually see it happen? I eagerly rubbed my hands together. I always wanted to know what angels looked like and what about the soldiers faces when all of this came down the pike? We would certainly beat Mary and Mary to the punch and what about Jesus? What would He look like? Would He look much different than He did Monday; the first time I saw Him? Would I even recognize Him? I wondered.

Maybe I'll just look for the guy with brown eyes and brown hair that looks like a gardener. I chuckled to myself, as I pondered all the possible reasons no-one recognized Him. I questioned. Maybe it was just because He wasn't what they were expecting? No, in reality He turned out to be more than any of us were expecting! Either way, I was looking forward to trying my eye at the great mystery of all-time - could I pick Jesus Christ out of a crowd?

I walked fast; trying to hurry Helina along; since though I was in a rush of excitement, I still didn't know where I was going. We walked through the deserted streets of Jerusalem making our way as quickly as we could, to the Triple Gate and the Red Heifer Bridge. I got this sense that dawn was rapidly approaching and it wouldn't be long until the 'first _day_ of the week' would be upon us.

We soon exited the city and were on our way across the bridge that stretched to the top of the Mount of olives, just before the cemetery. We skittered around the red heifer altar, before we descended the path leading to the cemetery entrance. Helina extinguished her torch and we picked up our pace, as we could hear commotion in the not too distant path; then the cock crowed a second time. We must be getting close I figured, when Helina nudged me and pointed to a soldier wandering aimlessly, chasing pebbles he was kicking about in his boredom.

We had come to another tomb; standing in it's stairwell, when I too could see one of the guards. He had his back to us, as he watched one of the others throwing pebbles at the stone that stood in front of the mouth of the grave.

[Come out, come out, wherever you are?] He giggled as the voices of his comrades chided his silly behavior.

[Are you guys taking this watch or just wanna throw rocks at a dead man?]

[You wanna stay?]

[Shut up, we've already been here 6 hours.]

[Does he snore?]

[What?]

[Who... him, or me?]

[No, he's talking about the dead guy.]

One of the other guards just shook his head as he began to pick up pebbles and hurl them back at his comrades. An all out pebble war was about to erupt when they suddenly stopped. Helina and I only looked at each other, for we could hear it too. It was that all too familiar sound of a freight train; just before the big one hits!

We stood clinging to the rocks of the tomb we were hiding near, when the ground began to holler - Let's Rumble!

"It's Party TIME!" I exclaimed as the first thought that popped into my head suddenly slipped out.

At this point it seemed nearly pitch black and I struggled with all my strength to remain where I stood, so I could witness the greatest event in history.

I watched the soldiers trip and stumbled, while the violent shaking rocked the entire mount. We both screamed; for a loud crack burst in our ears and a blinding streak of lightening flashed out of heaven. I struggled to get to my feet, but my legs were shaking so badly I couldn't stand up. I was trembling all over, as I tried to crawl around the other side of this tomb. Helina was laying on the ground in front of me; unconscious. I rested my forehead on her shoulder a moment or two, since I also felt like I was about to pass out.

The earthquake subsided and I looked up. I could hear what sounded like singing? Maybe I was hallucinating and my ears were still ringing from the incredible crack, sizzle boom the lightening had displayed. I questioned as I peered into the sky. I could see faint stars through this brilliant light glowing out from everywhere. What is that and where is it coming from? I questioned as I tried to get up. I couldn't move very well. All I managed to do was roll onto my side, while I continued to gaze heavenward for some indication as to what was actually going on?

The singing is getting louder? I questioned, for I could hear what sounded like a man's voice howling through the still air. Is that pain or... ? I puzzled a moment as the blinding light began to subside. Several moments had breathed their silent gasp when I noticed someone carrying at torch run past us. I picked my head up and swung around. Right in the path, paused the silhouette of a young man towered over by a strong stern bright faced figure.

[Cepheus.] He spoke in a whisper as he held his hands out. [Your cloak.]

The young man quickly took his cloak off and handed it to the figure; who slowly turned and almost gliding, descended the steps of the tomb. The bright glow faded to nothingness when I noticed another figure venturing toward the burning of the young man's torch. Wrapped in the cloak he'd just handed to the angel; stood a shivering form in bare feet and straggly hair.

[Praise ...the ...Lord.] He whispered. [He... is... risen.]

[Risen in deed.] Answered... Jesus.

I slowly climbed to my feet in stunned shock. The two turned toward me as I crept out of the rocks from the adjacent tomb. I tip toed in gingerly little hops over unconscious Roman soldiers, never for a moment taking my eyes off the form before me.

Behind Him, the mouth of the cave stood open like a giant monster now dead and devoid of it's power to swallow me up. Sin and death had been conquered and now all that was left was this empty grave. I realized as my thoughts flashed between it and this innocent, vulnerable,... sweaty... quietly giggling in joyful excitement; incarnate expression of God's goodness and love. I put my hand up to my face as I quietly giggled back. Yes, that tomb was black as charcoal and though I could see nothing in this chilly night air; I realized that blackness was actually a good sign. The fire of hell on my behalf; had been extinguished.

Suddenly, after all this time; the only Scripture verses I could manage to remember came flooding through my thoughts like the song who's wispy melody still vibrated in the air around us.

 ** _I am the rose of Sharon and the lily of the valleys._**

 ** _As the lily among the thorns, so is my love among the daughters._**

 ** _As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons._**

 ** _I sat down under his shadow with great delight and his fruit was sweet to my taste._**

 ** _He brought me to the banqueting house and his banner over me was love._**

 ** _Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples; for I am sick of love._**

 ** _His left hand is under my head and his right hand does embrace me._**

 ** _I charge you, Oh daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and by the hinds in the field; that you not stir or awaken my love until he please._**

 ** _The voice of my beloved; behold he comes, leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills._**

 ** _My beloved is like a roe or a young hart; behold, he stands behind our wall._**

 ** _He looks forth at the windows showing himself though the lattice._**

 ** _My beloved spoke and said to me:_**

 ** _Rise up my love, my fair one and come away._**

 ** _For, lo the winter is past, the rain is over and gone._**

 ** _The flowers appear on the earth._**

 ** _The time of singing has come and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land._**

 ** _The fig tree puts forth her green fig, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell._**

 ** _Arise my love, my fair one and come away._**

 ** _Oh my dove, that is in the cleft of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs; let me see your countenance._**

 ** _Let me hear your voice, for sweet is your voice and your countenance is comely._**

 ** _Take us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the vines; for our vines have tender grapes._**

 ** _My beloved is mine and I am his; he feeds me among the lilies._**

 ** _Until the day break and the shadows flee away; turn my beloved, and be like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether._**

And with that; shivering hands and a still, gentle giddiness, He turned away and hopped and jumped, cuddling the cloak snuggly around His naked body, spun in a circle and began skipping up the path in His victory dance over death.

Young Cepheus, the cemetery caretaker's son only looked at me, shrugged, cracked a smile and ran after Him.


	39. Good Morning Pontius Pilate

**Good Morning …. Pontius Pilate**

I stood a few minutes longer, watching the direction my beloved had danced off in; as the angelic song and Scripture passage drifted through my ears and out of my mind. The last thing I ever expected to come to me, upon witnessing the resurrection, was the Song of Solomon? Strangely enough though, it seemed to fit. I pondered while I peered one last time at the grave.

Helina came to mind, when I noticed the soldiers were starting to stir. I quickly retreated back to the steps of the other tomb, while I watched their attempts to collect themselves. As soon as they noticed the stone was rolled away and the grave really empty; they were absolutely panic stricken. They quickly gathered up their weapons, lanterns; plus comrades and fled into the city.

I waited till they were out of sight, before wandering back into the path; when I heard another rustling soul coming through the trees. I swung around, only to catch a glimpse of some curious onlooker drawing near. I ran behind a rock of the adjacent tomb, while this stranger hurried up the road.

I peeked out to see who it was and much to my surprise; I recognized her. It was Mary Magdalene. What's she doing here now? I pondered a moment as I noticed she was alone. I was about to emerge from my cover, when she stopped and with a stunned look of shocked panic; stumbled around in a few small circles (as if searching for someone) and suddenly ran away.

"Where you going?" I mumbled while emerging from behind my rock. Mary, come back here! I wanted to yell as I stood pointing. He, He…. He went that way!

Helina hadn't awoken yet and I didn't really know what to do, as I walked out into the narrow path right next to this infamous now empty grave. I glanced back over my shoulder wondering what's next? I really wanted to go find Jesus, but wasn't sure that would be a good idea. He obviously left before Mary arrived and for good reason; _of being freshly apprehended of life and also… only barely dressed._

More pondering grabbed my attention as I recollected the presence of this towering angel, whom the young fellow had so promptly volunteered his cloak to: And these wailing cries that rang through the air moments before, nearly blending unnoticeably with the rush of voices chorusing from heaven. Was being raised from the dead thus so confounding, or … climatic? _After all, I'd never heard any human being make a sound quite like that before._ And could that have been the reason no mortal was … ehh… _ **suppose ..**_ _(or rather recorded);_ to have witnessed this?

I had to think about that one for a moment. After all, it did seem logical that… open all cylinders full throttle; flood the system; reintroduce these charged components freshly delivered from death and hell; hit the switch and…. what reaction would one expect from an uncorrupted body and sinless soul? If Jesus had been ignorant of… such things prior, didn't seem to me that He was now! I nervously snickered, not sure if I should be embarrassed or… happy for Him?

Well? I sucked in a breath as my attention turned back toward the tomb. Ehh, speaking of reproduction? I leaned over and peered in, as my mind tracked down a different path.

I started to wonder if this had something to do with being 'first born from the dead'? Was this grave the womb His Father used to birth Him from His earthly life into the full fledged reality of successful Redeemer? I scratched my head as I glanced behind me almost expecting to see Jesus come skipping back up the path. That would actually be funny. I giggled. I don't know though? I shrugged while watching the darkness for any signs of movement. Either way, the analogy seemed to fit. You are my Son; this day I have begotten You.

My pondering was suddenly interrupted by the high pitched squeal of a panicked woman's voice as I caught a glimpse of a flash of light emanating from the tomb. I scurried off behind the nearest hiding place, when I saw them coming back. Mary Magdalene was blathering a mile a minute, while the other woman didn't seem too phased by her panic. Wait a minute? I squinted at the second soul. Is that…. Jesus's mother?

Panicked Mary scurried over and pointed to the empty grave when …. mom stopped and just stood quiet. Then suddenly I heard it too.

" **I know you seek Jesus who was crucified. He's risen as He said. Come see the place where the Lord lay."**

Panicked Mary let out a terrified screech and took off running while mom stood for a moment before she bowed to the angel in recognition of his message.

[Thank you.] She whispered before she turned around. [Mary!] She called as she too ran off. [Come back here. He's not dead any more!]

Mom moves pretty fast for a senior citizen. I snickered as I scurried out from my hiding place and watched them run down the path. I turned and peered into the tomb at the angel.

"I didn't know angels could speak English." I muttered.

"It's 'that Spirit." He answered.

"You mean that now that Jesus is risen from the dead; I can speak in tongues?"

"Yeah…" He paused a moment. "But except for the Lord Himself, no other mortal can."

"You mean I can talk to Jesus now!" I clapped excitedly.

The angel just smiled.

"So… He can understand me and you can understand me, but no-one else can?"

"Correct".

"Is that because we're still before Pentecost?"

"Yes."

"Weird….." I laughed. "So… OK; where is He?" I wagged my finger at the angel as I did a little dance, pointing in various directions.

"You will see Him soon enough." He laughed.

And just as sure as he'd been there a moment before. The angel was gone.

I only stood for bit, before I decided I should go check on Helina. Poor girl. I chuckled. I'm sure she must be stirring by now. I told myself as I strolled over to where I had left her. Sure enough, she was awake, sitting up and holding her head. Evidentially the crack from the lightning strike affected her ears. I noted as she was attempting to shake the ringing out. She looked up and smiled.

[OK, Where is he?] She asked as she grabbed my arm and pulled herself to her feet.

I lent a hand while she wobbled out from behind this tomb to go investigate the one that was now empty. Wow Helina, you got more guts than I do. I laughed as she walked right down the steps into the dark grave for a looksie around. She peered over at the faint white of the burial shroud a few minutes before she came walking back out. Searching around the cemetery, her eyes finally rested back on me, before she put her hands on her hips.

[Alright! Where'd he go?] She half laughed and half growled.

"I don't know." I only shrugged with a giggle. "But He aint in there!" I pointed.

We both stood outside the grave staring at each other literally… thunderstruck when we heard other's running up the path.

[Come on.] She grabbed my arm and ran toward the steps of the first tomb we'd hid near.

"It's probably John and Peter." I whispered as I peered out from behind a shrub; but low and behold. It wasn't John at all, it was a hand full of armed soldiers; complete with torches and lanterns in hand along with Cornelius and …. Pontius Pilate?

[Father!] Helina jumped up and ran toward the group of men.

[You are here!] Cornelius exclaimed sounding more relieved than angry. [Where's Kat-reen is she here?]

Helina pointed to me.

[What about Jesus… The King of the Jews?] Pilate inquired. [Did you see him?]

[No sir, but I saw the angel!]

[The soldiers say they saw it too] Pilate muttered [Then they told me the tomb was empty.]

[Yes Governor, it's empty.] Cornelius declared as he stood outside shining his torch inside.

Pilate walked over toward the grave; that several of the soldiers were already inspecting, while flashing looks of profound astonishment at each other. in their glowing lights. Boy this is an awfully busy place. I thought to myself as I watched _**another**_ group descend upon this empty tomb. This time though, they was members of the Sanhedrin! Also, complete with soldiers and torches in hand.

[What are you doing back here.] An angry priest bellowed at the soldiers. [We told you…. ]

 **[Excuse me!]** Pilate yelled as he ascended the stairs back out of the tomb.

[Governor… sir.] The angry priest's demeanor took a sudden…. radical attitude adjustment [We didn't….]

[Shut up!] Pilate growled.

[Yes sir. Yes sir.] They all bowed in feigned allegiance; although obviously distracted by the dark empty grave as they inched toward it.

[It is as we've said. The body is gone.] One 'politely' sought affirmation.

[Well?] Pilate handed his torch to a soldier and folded his arms. [Yes, the body is gone; but the burial shroud is laying on the floor and your _**king**_ ;…. said he'd rise from the dead. So…] Pilate glared at them and asked very pointedly. [What do… _you_ think happened?]

 _They stood quietly for several long minutes kibitzing among themselves._

[They stole the body.] One suddenly declared.

[Who… stole the body?] Pilate inquired.

[The disciples; while the soldiers slept sir.]

[And… how many soldiers came to you?]

[Two sir.]

[And… how many soldiers are at a given watch post, when the cock crows?]

[Ehh….] They kibitzed among themselves some more. [Where are the other two sir?]

[Does it really matter now?] Pilate folded his arms. [Considering half of Antonia heard about what they'd seen, even before the news got to me!]

[How much do you want sir?]

[Hum…] Pilate started to laugh as he commenced his fantasy. [I'd like to go back to Rome and retire…. ] He shook his finger in the air. [In a nice villa… by the sea shore… with my own yacht… and a vineyard. I like a good red…. you know.] He smiled as he looked at Cornelius. [Sound good to you centurion?]

[Sounds wonderful sir.] Cornelius laughed.

[So….] Pilate looked at the counsel members. [What's it worth to ya?]

[Sir?] They grew saucer eyes.

[Can't afford my retirement huh?] Pilate flashed them a mischievous grin. [Than I guess you better start looking for… _**the body.**_ ]

[What about the money we already gave the soldiers?] One grumbled.

[Ya paid for their retirement.] Pilate answered. [What about mine?]

[Ehh…] One nervously whispered to his spokesman. [Caiaphas won't be happy about this.]

[Neither will Herod.] The other whispered back. [We didn't find Joseph or Nicodemus either. How are we going to find this body?]

[Nicodemus and Joseph of Aramathea.] Pilate wagged his finger in the air as he turned to Cornelius. [Those names sound familiar to me.]

[Yes governor they do.] Cornelius answered. [Aren't they part of a murder investigation?]

[Yes centurion, I believe they are.]

[Do they have Joseph and Nicodemus?] One poked the other.

[I hope not.] The other muttered under his breath.

[Umm… eh..] Their spokesman raised his hand to inquire of Pilate. [Do you think we're going to… find it sir?]

[Find what?] Pilate inquired.

[The body… sir.]

[Well…] Pilate snarked. [Where would your… king… Messiah?… Son of the Living God…] He folded his arms. [Be hiding, from…. the likes of you?]

[Where would he be hiding?] They began to whisper again among themselves.

[Does that mean he's not dead?]

[Does he know something we don't.]

[Are you sure he _didn't_ rise from that tomb?]

[Are you sure the governor doesn't know that?] They peered at Pilate.

[Can you afford a villa with a vineyard in Rome?] They frowned at each other.

[We better go look for a body.]

[ _ **The**_ … body!] Pilate reminded them. [I already have one murder on my hands and if I see any more? Well; we'll have to put up more crosses.]

[You can't crucify Roman citizens.]

[But I can turn ones guilty of sedition over to Caesar. He has the authority to crucify anyone he wishes.]

OK OK! They mumbled amongst themselves one last time.

[Thank you sir. Thank you sir. We will go find the body.] Their spokesman suddenly announced as he gestured to the others. [Come on.]

The military men all stood silently as the council members scurried away like the little cockroaches they were. I turned toward Helina, only to see someone else coming up the path from the other direction.

"Look" I pointed.

[Who is that?] Pilate inquired a bit skeptically as he took a torch and raised it to the figure approached us.

When He stopped and stood before the governor; I took a step forward and picked up Jesus's arm. Pilate stared at His hand while Cornelius slowly sunk to one knee and bowed his head. Helina too knelt by her father and as the soldiers approached one by one; they also all bowed to one knee. The air grew still as Jesus, Pilate and I were the only ones standing.

[What have we done?] Pilate whispered in nearly inaudible regret.

[Which none of the princes of this world knew; for if they had known, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory.]

Pilate only starred at Jesus; his face now white with shock.

[I read the book.] Pilate whispered. [You eventually take down this entire empire.]

[Eventually, yes.]

[Help me.] Pilate stared in dead pan seriousness.

[What do you want?]

[I don't know.]

[What is truth?] Jesus inquired of Pilate's own words.

[Not everyone wants the truth; even when they know what it is.] Pilate answered.

[That is true.]

[How do I play this roll in history?] Pilate nearly pleaded.

[Not my will Father; but Thine be done.]

[I have't had a father in decades.] Pilate recollected.

[When our parents forsake us; the Lord will take us up.]

[A father to the fatherless and a judge to the widows; is God in his holy habitation. Nicodemus…. said that to me yesterday.]

[Yes.]

[And I say to you; many shall come from the east and west and shall sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven. But the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer darkness, where there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.] Pilate paused a moment. [I heard that from a centurion…. last year.]

[Yes, and I said to that centurion, Go your way; and as you have believed, so be it done unto you.]

Pilate paused another moment as he looked around at all the soldiers waiting patiently for their next order.

[Centurion] Pilate turned to Cornelius.

[Yes governor.] Cornelius stood up.

[I've seen all I need to see here.] Pilate made his statement. [The Jews can say what ever they want; but we now know what happened to the body of their king.]

[Yes governor.]

[This investigation is closed.]

[Yes sir.]

Pilate paused another moment before he turned back to Jesus.

[Thank You.] He whispered.

And with that; Pontius Pilate collected his soldiers, walked away from the tomb and into the history books.


	40. Easter Breakfast

**Easter Breakfast**

So... there I stood in the dark next to Jesus, as we both watched Pilate, Cornelius, Helina and this gaggle of the soldiers amble down the path. Each would stop periodically and look back at us; seemingly just to make sure we were still... _**real**_ _(ly)_ there? Hum? We waved when ever one would wave at us.

"So, the angel says You can understand me now."

"Yes."

"And... I can understand You. But... no one else can understand me?"

"Yes, correct."

"That is so weird..." I paused a moment. "When I talk, what do You hear?"

"Aramaic."

"Although You don't understand English, even though that's what I hear, when You talk to me?"

"Correct."

"That is freaky!"

"Freaky, radicle, cool beans... dudette."

"Interesting." I nodded as I flashed Jesus a peculiar look.

 _He only chuckled a bit._

"So, how long does this last?"

"Until tongues cease."

"That wasn't a very definitive answer." I raised an eyebrow at Jesus.

"Well, you know tongues ceased by the time the writing of the New Testament was complete."

"Yeah, and people in my century have no idea what it was; even though they can read it there in plain... text. 'And every man heard them speak in the tongue where which he was born.' It wasn't gibberish." I laughed.

"True; it was not gibberish and in this way you understand that tongues have not ceased, because the gospel is still going into all the world in foreign languages."

"And Bible translators still need interpreters from one language to another."

"Yes they do."

"So." Jesus suddenly switched topics. "Are you hungry?"

"Huh?" I only looked at Him.

"Cephas and family are making breakfast. Are you hungry?"

"Easter breakfast on the first Easter Sunday morning; and with Jesus too." I excitedly exclaimed as I rubbed my hands together. "But... what about Peter and John and Mary Magdalene?"

"We have at least an hour before they return."

"Really; Why's it take so long?"

"Peter is a little slow to convince."

"OK." I laughed with a happy shrug as my attention turned back toward breakfast. "Do they have French toast?"

"I don't know what that is."

"It's made with egg and real bread and cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla. It's gotta be squishy yeast bread though. Can't make French toast with unleavened bread; that aint gonna work."

"Well then, if you want French toast this morning; you'd have to go to a Roman house." Jesus chuckled.

"You wanna eat breakfast at Ignatius's?" I giggled.

"I already have an invitation." Jesus laughed.

"OK." I sighed. "So what's for breakfast; besides unleavened bread?"

"I don't know." Jesus shrugged as we began to walk.

"OK" I sucked in a breath as I launched into my next question. "So... Let me get this strait. I talk to You, You talk to me, we understand each other. I talk to You, they don't understand me. They talk to You. I understand You, but I don't understand them; but they understand what You are saying to me because You are actually speaking in Aramaic. But if I ask you what they said; even though I hear You in English, they still hear You in Aramaic. So... it just sounds to them like You are repeating to me in Aramaic what they just said in Aramaic... or Hebrew.. or whatever?" I paused and looked at Jesus. "Right?"

"Ehh, Yes... exactly that." Jesus chuckled.

"Well, maybe I just better shut up. Because I'd think that would be awfully confusing to them."

"Don't worry about it. You're already confusing enough." Jesus informed me. "Cephas is the one who found your car."

"Oh... Is _**that**_ how Nicodemus and Joseph got my Bibles?"

"Yes."

"Man, have I thrown a huge monkey wrench into this century; haven't I?"

"Nothing frustrates the will of my Father. Regardless of how you got here, or whether or not you're really suppose to be here."

"Are You happy I'm here?"

"You were a distinct reminder of the goal." Jesus paused a moment, before He added in side comment. "Even if you would not stay where I put you."

"Well... I mostly stayed." I sheepishly attempted to defend myself. "But could You blame me? I just wanted to see if my understanding of the Bible was accurate."

"Yes, I know and I understand." Jesus sighed. "I just had to leave it to my Father because I had no idea what Peter was going to do."

"Yeah, Pete was a little on edge there; wasn't he." I suddenly burst out laughing when I caught my own pun. "Pete with the sword; get it - on edge?"

Jesus only stood a minute and shook His head.

"I know. I'm so stupid!" I attempted to collect myself.

I'd finally managed to _(mostly)_ reel in the giggles by the time we arrived at Cephas's house. It was interesting to watch their reactions to Jesus; for apparently they all knew He'd come back from the dead, as Cephas (their son) brought home this resurrected man who... needed a bath... and clothes. So I suppose it was expedient to God's Divine purpose, that mom and dad were good sports about it all.

[Hello yes, come in.] The elder welcomed us. [And this is the person, the chariot belongs to?]

"Yes."

[So much excitement I don't really understand?] The man looked inquisitively at Jesus. [Here I'm thinking someone from the future is too unusual and... you come back from the dead. How does this happen?]

"It's a part of the plan." Jesus answered. "Or, so apparently... And Oh." Jesus turned to me. "This is elder Cephas who's also called Bart." He explained. "And his wife Anna."

[Oh, so she does speak Aramaic?]

"Well?" Jesus sighed with an indecisive cringe. "Not really, it's kind of hard to explain; but you'll understand about 50 days from now."

[So do you now know how she got here?]

"No, actually I don't." Jesus confessed. "I do know more then I did before I died; but I still don't know that?"

"Don't know what?" I inquired.

"How you got here."

"I don't know how I got here either." I smirked before I inquired of Jesus. "Did You ask?"

"No." Jesus shook His head. "I was busy; so no, I didn't ask."

"Too busy opening scrolls; Ehhh?" I shook my finger at Him. "Book of Revelation Ya know... right?"

"Yes." Jesus confirmed with a bit of a shrug. "I was busy opening scrolls."

"So, do You now know when the end is?" I automatically pitched my next question.

"Yes, I do." He confirmed.

"Are You going to tell me?"

"No, I'm not."

"Awww; bummer." I muttered to myself. "That's no fun."

"It's not for you to know... " Jesus began, while I finished His sentence. "Times and seasons the Father has put in his own authority. Yeah, yeah yeah. I know what it says." I let out a sigh. "It'd be good to know at least if we're close though."

"But in the days of the voice of the 7th angel, when he shall begin to sound; the mystery of God shall be finished, as He has declared to His servants the prophets." Jesus quoted another verse. "So why should I tell you, when you may actually be one of the ones who figures it out?"

"The glory of God to conceal a matter; but the honor of kings to hunt it down." I countered with yet another verse, only finding this 'let us throw Bible passages at each other' form of argument, nominally amusing.

"Do you want your concordance?" Jesus smirked.

"OK, OK." I threw my hands in the air. "Uncle."

I sucked in a deep breath and paused a moment suddenly noting the confused expressions of those on the Aramaic side of His 'phone' conversation.

[Well, shall we eat?] Anna broke in as she gestured toward the table.

"Well, I get it now." I commented to Jesus as I followed Him over to the table. "Why they needed a tongues interpreter."

"For if the whole church comes together in one place and all speak with tongues and there comes those unlearned or unbelievers, will they not say you are crazy?" Jesus responded.

[That is out of that book? Is it not?] Bart flashed Jesus an inquisitive expression. [The book that hasn't been written yet?]

"Yes." Jesus replied as we all sat down on our little pillows and prayer rug... looking matts. "The book that hasn't been written yet."

[Well.] Bart sucked in a deep breath as he looked around at his family and two guests. [Would you; please.] He nodded to Jesus.

"OK, yes." Jesus replied as He folded His hands and bowed His head.

Dear Father, We thank You for this glorious day.

At no other time in history have You given such a grand gift as eternal life.

It is a precious thing to be sought after with all we have.

I thank You that You are a God of Your word and You have not suffered Your servant to see corruption; but have raised this body as a testament to Your eternal love and power.

We thank You this day for the genius of the plan developed in eternity; long before this universe came into being.

I pray for those who will hear this good news of Your salvation plan; as it is preached from the many souls of the saints through the course of time. Many will face trials of all manner and some, death for the witness of this good news. May You give them strength and courage for the battles they face.

We also thank You for this food You've provided. May Your will be, that it give us strength for our journey ahead.

Jesus paused a moment and my thinking he was done concluded with:

"In Jesus name. Amen."

Jesus sat up and looked at me a moment.

"What?" I shrugged.

"Nothing." He smiled.

The rest of breakfast was consumed pretty much in silence; as it seemed all were in such astonishment that there wasn't much to say. Bart and Anna were pretty proud of junior for being keen enough to go see what had happened, once the earthquake hit.

Yet all the while I wondered about the people now in heaven. Moses and Elijah, who were on the mount of transfiguration and now did they actually physically reside in... heaven; or some form of... the new earth, new Jerusalem or something like that? All these questions I could ask, but didn't seem as if they were all that important right now.

I was just happy to be sitting here next to Jesus, who was so contently munching on fruit and drinking tea, while chatting with this family. I could tell from my understanding of the English side of the 'phone conversation' that nothing particularly theologically heavy was being discussed. What should I ask? I wondered as now I had the opportunity and didn't want to squander it. The door will close soon enough and even with all the questions I could ponder; I had nothing to say.

I felt like I was in a story book; just waiting for what ever my next line the author would write. It was a weird feeling; not like a movie or a dream. _Not that I cared to think too much about the content of... my dreams._ I cynically smirked. No point in wasting the moment of a pleasant fantasy, or even feeling like I'm in a children's novel; The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh. I tried not to giggle. 'I'm just a little black rain cloud, hovering under the honey tree...' 'Oh bother.'

Little bits and clips of movies filtered through my mind as I only sat there grinning while diligently laboring to restrain myself from bursting into the refrain of 'I just can't wait to be king'. What a hysterical irony that would be... considering Who I'm sitting next to.

I thought for a moment about 12 year old Jesus; wandering away from mom and dad to go hang out in the temple. I wonder what He was thinking; since it seemed reasonable to me that He wouldn't have known at that age, that these people would crucify Him. So what goes through a little Messiah's head, who's trying to figure out His Father's will? I suppose I could ask that? I pondered a moment as I sat watching Him, before He handed me a bowl of figs.

We were mostly positioned crosslegged like a Japanese family sitting at a low table, then 'reclining' feet all stretched out in the same direction going around the table sort of like crooked spokes on a wheel. I never could quite figure out how to manage that and try to eat comfortably? Ignatius had a more traditional style couch / benches assembled in a U-shape around a table (which we'd mostly sat on) and apparently the members of Cornelius's household either dined on stools, or stood up to eat. Cornelius, in a house full of soldiers seemed a far more utilitarian soul.

Any how; the way we were all sitting gave me in interesting perspective on Jesus's hands and feet. His wounds were not gross, red and bloody; or even obviously notable for that matter. They were healed up and more resembled a hole one would see in a pierced ear; the skin having healed all the way through the opening, so that a small object could pass between the bones. I was tempted to stick a finger in Jesus's foot, but not knowing how ticklish He actually was; nor soliciting suspicion of lewd behavior, I decided it was most prudent to keep my hands to myself.

We soon finished and Jesus excused Himself to go carry on the next order of business. After having stopped in the toilet room; I opted to wait till it was empty, and I followed Him outside.

"So, where You going now?" I asked, my mind still latently occupied with Peter, John and Mary coming back to the tomb.

"I'm going to pray." He answered almost sounding a bit anxious, as He wrapped the cloak around Himself and pulled the hood up over His head.

Yes it was a bit chilly out here. I too adjusted my layers.

"Is Your brain full?" I chuckled.

Jesus turned and looked at me a moment.

"Yes." He gave a thoughtful answer, before a hapless comment. "A lot going on inside." He mumbled as He put His arms up over His head, before He let them drop back down to His sides, peered up into the sky and snuggled Himself in the cloak again.

I looked at Him a minute.

"You're overwhelmed aren't You?" I lent an observation that caught His attention, as He turned back to me.

"Very." He whimpered an honest confession.

"And so You go hide in the prayer closet..." I began as He suddenly finished my sentence. "Because it's safe in there."

And with that ... this tender shoot out of dry ground... wheeled around and ran off into the darkness of this early dawn.

Hum... I contemplated as I watched Him disappear into the olive groves, while His departing words stuck in my ears: Running for the safety of the One who's held him in His hands his entire life. How is it that God Almighty could at the same time be so small and vulnerable? What an irony. I observed in quiet awe.


	41. Good Morning Mary Magdalene

**Good Morning Mary Magdalene**

Well? I pondered a moment as I turned on my heels and made my way back toward the tomb. Wonder who's next to show up? I snickered, as I walked along carelessly listening to the twitter of multitudes of … wordy birds; who were chirping and burping and eating dirty earth worms! I giggled some more, preoccupied with the useless fact that birds can't actually burp.

The daylight was creeping upon us, as I watched the waking of the light blue glow on the horizon beyond the east. I imagined little Japanese and Chinese and Mongolian and Indian…. people all arising in succession of the growing sunlight as it swept across the Asian continent. It was almost as if I could walk a couple of steps and say good morning to all of them.

My thoughts began to meander as I passed other graves and considered how this simple tomb hewed in the rock face; was to be the most famous… in eternity. Emperor Qin Shi Huang out done by the King… who borrowed someone else's tomb. I wonder what Huang's terra-cotta army would say to that? If it could talk? Now having endured some 200 years underground. All for an emperor who sought to obtain eternal life from drinking Mercury. _All the best laid plans of mice and men; ya know._ The poor slob.

As I drew nearer to the tomb, I could see various souls scurrying about in near panic; none of which seemed to notice me in the dim dawn. Mom stood outside, as a few other women began to stack up behind her like dominos, all staring saucer eyed into the empty grave. Looks like our friendly neighborhood angel made his reappearance. I snickered to myself. Apparently though, he wasn't feeling particularly luminous, as I could not see the light of his shiny countenance.

[Don't be afraid. You look for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He is risen and is not here. Look; the place where they'd laid him.]

Wait a minute? I suddenly stopped. What happened to my English speaking angel?

[See! I've been trying to tell you. He rose from the dead!] Mom turned around, scolding the woman behind her, as she put her hands on her hips.

It was then I realized she was talking to Mary Magdalene and I thought to myself: Mary, how many times have you been to this tomb now? I let out a sigh as I shook my head and walked toward them; the other women now abandoning their clay pots of anointing spices and scurrying back toward the city; as I approached.

[AHHHHH!] Mary screeched as she looked over mom's shoulder at me; dropped her jar and ran away.

Mom turned around and in the moment or two she took to recognize me, slapped her forehead trailing her hand down her face.

[Look!] She pointed into the tomb. [Got up and LEFT!]

"Yeah, I know." I laughed as I peered inside.

In there sat someone I'd seen just 10 minutes prior. It was…. Bart junior, looking very radiant in a bright white vestiture; apparently reflecting what ever surplus of glory the angel had left behind? The first human witness to the resurrection. I smiled at his beaming excitement. I'd just seen him at breakfast. A fellow proud of his discovery; ready to serve in humble gratitude. I waved to him. He waved back.

Mom just looked at the two of us a minute, before she let out a sigh.

[Better go find her.] She muttered with an exasperated huff. [Lovely woman, generous woman; but…. what a nit-wit!]

Mom headed back down the path as Cephas hopped off the stone slab and bounded up the steps. He looked at me with one big grin, before he turned on his heels, did a little jig and ran off, back toward home.

I looked up as the daylight grew stronger. I turned to consider the hill behind me, when I decided I wanted to see the 'grand canyon' on the other side of this cemetery. So, I began to scale the rock face headed for the summit of the Mt. of Olives.

As I climbed the rocks behind the tombs, I could see the emerging landscape stretched out before me. It wasn't too far of a climb, although it was a bit steep; so I zig zagged my way through the gnarled shrubs and knotty trees. When I finally reached the top; I wandered over toward the tallest tree, who's branches stretched out across the cleft, as it's trunk sunk deep into the side of the hill. I wasn't sure what type of tree it was, but it reminded me of a Sequoia; (a pigmy Sequoia of the Cyprus variety of course) standing strong and timeless in it's witness to history. Wonder how long it's been here? I smiled as I climbed into its boughs.

I sat for what must have been at least another 20 minutes, when I heard voices below me. John and Peter. I chuckled as I saw two men running up the hill; trailed by… doubting Mary.

Sure enough, John came darting through the trees and stopped suddenly at the mouth of the open tomb. He stooped down, looked in and as he was assessing the scene; Peter came running up behind him, tripping down the stairs into the grave. I sucked in a snicker as I watched Peter frantically searching about; almost as if he was some modern day crime scene investigator looking for the clue he must have missed.

[Yeah, he aint here.] Peter muttered as he came stomping out of the tomb.

He stopped a moment only to glare at Mary Magdalene, who'd come stumbling up the path, wiping the tears from her eyes. Peter let out a sigh and stomped off back toward the city; while John, now standing on the last step, right at the grave's entrance watched him leave. Mary only stood and cried as John strolled back up on to the path.

[He rose from the dead.] John declared. [So, stop crying.]

[How do you know that?] Mary sniffled.

[The grave clothes are laying on the floor in there.] John pointed. [Aint nobody gonna steal a naked corpse!]

Mary paused a moment, seeming a bit struck by whatever John had said; before she suddenly…. burst into tears? Again….?

John on the other hand though; was sporting a huge grin.

[WOO HOO!] He suddenly exclaimed a he broke into a victory dance. [He back. He back. Now don't you give me flack. As per, God's marvelous grace… now I wanna see the look on Caiaphas's face!]

I started to giggle as John reminded me of some conglomerate between a character from the BC cartoon strip and the predecessor to a Michael Jackson wanna be: For poor John had an uncanny resemblance to some awkward dance steps I'd attempt to invent. So thus history can attest to the old adage; that if 'white men can't jump'…. well, apparently neither can Jews.

[Yo Pete!] John went on as his jig broke into a jog. [Git you smelly self back here; ya fish slapper!]

Mary was was too absorbed in her tears to even notice John's exuberant jubilation; as she stooped down and looked into the tomb.

"Woman." The unmistakable voice of the angel rang through the air, followed by another angel's question. "Why are you crying?"

[Because they've taken away my Lord and I don't know where they put him.] Mary whined.

"Boy Mary are you dense!" I muttered to myself, when I saw someone else coming down the path from the opposite direction. "There He is. There He is!" I exclaimed as I pointed behind Mary; not sure if she could actually hear me.

I wasn't sure if I should try to get Mary's attention? Maybe I should throw one of these funny looking… monkey faced (or is it Homer Simpson?) nuts at her? Either way, I figured if I was going to do anything, I better decide quickly, as Jesus was nearly right underneath me; just innocently standing there like no big deal had happened this morning.

Mary turned around.

"Ma'am, why are you crying? Who are you looking for?"

[Sir, if you have taken him away?] She whimpered turning toward the tomb. [Tell me where you've put him and I will take him.]

 _Speaking of Homer Simpson; I was almost certain I was going to hear it out of Jesus's mouth - Dohhh!_

"Mary!" His voice rang commandingly through the air.

[Ra…Rab..? Rabboni!] She gasped as her face crinkled up in an almost mournful exclamation of joy, while she held her arms out in front of her and scurried toward Him.

"No, don't touch me; for I haven't ascended to my Father yet." Jesus held a hand up to intercept her.

Mary stopped, cocked her head as a mildly perplexed expression crossed her face before she just haplessly shrugged. Ehh… OK?

"But…. go to my brothers and tell them that I've ascended to my Father and your Father and to my God and your God."

[O.K.] Mary's confusion melted into happy smiles before she took a deep breath and let out the same little girl giddy giggle I'd recollected of her daughter at the swimming hole; before she turned and ran off.

"Congratulations Mary ya finally got it!" I exclaimed as I threw my hands in the air; and…. tumbled out of the tree. Crack! Boing. Ouch! I was clinging to one of the branches as it swayed toward the ground and I hung there staring at Him.

"You can let go now." Jesus finally instructed.

"OK." I sheepishly grinned as I released the branch and fell in a heap by the side of the road.

The tree snapped its limb back; showering us with monkey faced _(or is it Homer Simpson)_ fruit, while I just lay there idiotically giggling at Jesus.

"I guess I wouldn't make it in the CIA would I?"

"Probably not."

Jesus finally let out a sigh followed by a little chuckle as He turned and walked back in the direction He'd come. I just continued giggling, as I watched Him until He disappeared behind some trees.


	42. Two Worlds Collide

**Two Worlds Collide**

 _"Horatio. Horatio."_

 _"Yes Sir"_

 _Horatio jumped to his feet as he stared in awe at the figure before him. He wore fine leather and fur, beaded with colorful shells of bright patterns and eagle feathers upon his white bearskin headdress. A red man with strong features and jet black hair, woven into a tight braid. Horatio saluted the man and then bowed._

 _"See not to it that you worship me. I am but a fellow servant and one of your brothers that have the testimony of Jesus."_

 _"Yes, I'm sorry. Jesus says to worship the Father only." Horatio straitened himself as his gaze drifted toward heaven. "He is risen; is He not?"_

 _"Yes, He is risen."_

 _Horatio stood staring into the blazon sky as the light poured forth with thunderings and lightening; before his eyes drifted back toward the figure before him._

 _"Who are you? What is your name?"_

 _"I am called Upkik Isumatturuk."_

 _"Upkik Isumatturuk?" Horatio puzzled a moment._

 _"Wise as the snowy owl" Upkik smiled kindly. "I am of the tribe called Yupik."_

 _"You come from the other side of the world." Horatio turned around a moment, as if he could actually see the continent across the ocean._

 _"Yes. Up in the north country." Upkik answered._

 _"And you were a warrior." Horatio amended as he gestured to the man's spear._

 _"Yes." Ukik nodded. "Much like yourself; a warrior, but also a hunter. I fed many of my people whale for many winters."_

 _"You were a faithful servant." Horatio wondered a'loud as his eyes drifted to the ground behind him. "How long ago did you pass?" He asked; for at their feet lay a soldier, who's throat had been slit in a brutal fight._

 _"Oh, it has been many winters for me; back since about the days of Job of old." Upkik answered._

 _"Not too long from Noah's flood?" Horatio commented as he looked back up at Upkik._

 _"Yes, winters after the continents divided." Upkik nodded._

 _"They did escape though." Horatio shifted his observation as he looked around. "I don't see them among us."_

 _"Nicodemus, Joseph and Isaiah; Yes, they escaped." Upkik answered._

 _"It was the timekeeper's time, but not theirs." Horatio reflected almost carelessly; given the fact that his own name meant 'time keeper'._

 _"Yes, you have completed your work... time keeper." Upkik smiled._

 _"Where is He?" Horatio posed his next question as he began to look around again. "He must be walking among us here somewhere?"_

 _"Yes, He's rallying the next soldier who will take them upon the next leg of their journey."_

 _"Katreen?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _"So how many of us are there?" Horatio wondered as his gaze drifted up._

 _"I don't know." Upkik answered. "But we are an army no man can count."_

 _"I guess so." Horatio smiled. "I shall build my church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it. He wasn't kidding was He?"_

 _"No, He doesn't kid about these things." Upkik let out a chuckle. "We are they who've come out of great tribulation."_

 _"Of every kindred, tongue, tribe and nation." Horatio smiled. "The time keeper and the snowy owl."_

 _"Yes, the time keeper and the snowy owl." Upkik gave a friendly nod. "Come." He motioned. "I will take you to the Father."_

 ** _Meanwhile, back in time:_**

I sat alone for at least another ten minutes, until I decided I really didn't want to be here anymore either. So I headed out on a little walk, up the hill, past the tombs until I got to the highest point in the cemetery; (a little past the tree I'd just fallen out of). I stood looking around, wondering what I should do next, when I noticed something very familiar.

I was actually on the adjacent opposite slope of my rocky friends. Right in front of me (if I looked hard enough) I could see the rock crevice that hid my car. I wonder if it's still there; or did someone actually try to drive off in it? I chuckled as I stumbled back down the slope; suddenly 'stumbling' upon the answer to the question of what was I to do now? I'm going to go find my car!

I made my way out of the cemetery and headed up a small road, which just kept leading to bigger roads. Jerusalem was awake, as a busy awkward silence scurried around the city in a sort of panicked disbelief. Interesting! I thought to myself, as curious onlookers began to filter across the Red Heifer Bridge in ever increasing numbers. I wonder if the chariot tracks from five or so days earlier are still there; hundreds of chariot tracks later? I chuckled as my attention tracked down another path.

I came up along a narrow pass to the the back side of the rock clefts, when I headed off into an expanding valley of short scrubby brush that stood between me and the rock's feet. I headed toward the one that hid my car and started to ask myself why I was here?

I thought about it and pondered it, questioned it and thought about it some more. I'd always believed I was a rational person. I reassured myself, as I began peering into rock caves. But nothing about this whole experience is rational at all.

My thoughts began to ramble, when I realized I'd never before put much stake into the question of why I was actually here; since I was so absorbed in staying alive. So now, I guess, comes the why and how? I mumbled as I kept passing rock crevices. After all, I never thought it was really possible to travel through time. The law of entropy and all; ya know. Time is a linear thing that only goes forward.

Or at least that's the way it's always been. My thoughts began to race before they finally crashed; and having found no viable solution to my dilemma, I convinced myself I must be in a coma.

Yes, that's it! It was nothing but a really bad car accident and I'm going to wake up any minute now in a hospital in Chicago! I laughed. Boy, have I got a story for them!

I let out a big sigh and continued walking before I finally found the cleft of rock my car doth hide in. Now came the need to work on the solution to my next problem; how was I going to get in?

I didn't have the pouch that held all my 20th century paraphernalia and I wasn't sure exactly how 'air tight' the car would be after the Interlinear Bible bandits had struck. I did manage to coax open one of the back windows, enough to get a stick in side. I kept feeling around in my 'blindness' for the handle, using my 4 years of intimate knowledge with this vehicle, before the latch popped and I was in.

After taking a few moments to thoroughly inspect the inside (for those dangerous creepy crawlies that like to nest in contraptions like this) I was convinced that it was safe. I could continue my little excavations uninterrupted by the fear of sitting on a snake, or scorpion, or something like that. Uh hum! I chucked as the ever so present wisdom from Desert Storm came back to visit me once again. You never can trust these little critters. I mumbled, as all the recollections of shaking out boots, ruck sacks and sleeping bags every morning and evening came filtering in. Oh the honor of war! I let out one last sarcastic laugh.

I found good 'ol King Jimmy and I knew there was a concordance here too...someplace? I mumbled as I continued to pull out what was left of my library. Guess a couple of curious counsel members had no need for English concordances and Bible dictionaries. I snickered, wondering if I was ever going to get my Interlinear Bibles back? Look what else they found under the Dome of the Rock that survived the siege of Jerusalem? I laughed. I had no idea what I was wishing to accomplish at this very moment, or why; but I was determined.

Did my ... coma match my Bible?

A few things in the English that seemed to substantiate my current experiences, readily jumped out at me. In John particularly, I found: **_Now before the feast of Passover when Jesus knew his hour had come..._**

Yeah... I nodded as I continued to read and it became quite clear that indeed the passage really did fit with how I remembered it happening. As was written in the Scripture, most of the others had no idea why Judas left; for they thought Jesus sent him to purchase things for the Passover.

The light dawned, when I realized the apostles would not think Judas would leave to buy food for a feast they'd just finished eating! Of course this wouldn't make sense. I concluded as I continued to read. I began to wonder if the events recorded here before my eyes, were what Jesus and the apostles actually did the remainder of the night, while I was running through the fields?

After a few more chapters, another revelation hit me and I now knew why everyone had fallen asleep that night right after Passover. They'd already been up 24 hours listening to; and probably trying to convince Jesus that He was going to survive the next few days.

Well, how interesting that really is - it's actually all right here in front of me! I started to giggle; half out of irony and half out of pure rejoicing. Too bad I can't stay awake any longer. I suddenly realized a the dark tunnel of exhaustion descended like an evil sandstorm. I did the slow blink a couple of times before I flopped over and... that was it.

Sunny ... mid morning? came without my noticing when I awoke to a tapping on my shoulder. A screech erupted as I bolted up in a panic; not sure if was a chemical gas attack or a scud.

"No wait... this is my car?" I mumbled as my eyes began to focus and I starred at someone who looked vaguely familiar, scrunched down on the floor of my passenger seat, twisted up in an odd contortion of... startled surprise.

"Sorry." I smiled meekly.

"It's OK." Jesus grimaced as He pulled Himself off the floor and crawled up onto the seat.

I took one good look at Him in the now bright morning sunshine. He was certainly recognizable, but did look different. On top of being raised form the dead; a good bath, clean hair and a long nap did wonders for His mood, as well as His appearance. He was obviously well contented with the hope this new day brought to human history; as well as maybe still a tad giddy.

Jesus giggled happily as He leaned over the back of the passenger's seat looking at His hands and arms and the scars that remained. It didn't seem that He was amazed or in some way proud of Himself, as much as relieved. He clapped these sacred hands together in an excitement that simply said - I'm gland it's over! See; He held them up to me as a smile lit up His face.

"Yes, You're back." I mumbled while I leaned over, took a hold of His wrist and rested my forehead on His arm in a moment of quiet reflection. All these four days I sat and watched, waiting, just waiting for that day when the only Someone who was willing to pay for my sin would show the world that indeed He'd done what He set out to do.

"You done an excellent job." I whispered, more to acknowledge my own thoughts than some passing pat on the back meant for Jesus. "Much better than I would have." I laughed as I kissed His hand.

Jesus patted the top of my head with His other hand as He started to say something I wasn't particularly paying attention to. He stared out the window a minute before He turned back to me.

"Come on, let's get this tin can rolling." He chuckled. "I got a mission for you."

"A mission!" I perked up.

"Yes." He nodded. "There's a wrinkle in time here that needs fixing." He explained. "But before that happens; we got a couple of people to drop off in Aramathea."

"Road Trip!" I bellowed in laughter. "Oh Thank You, Thank You, Thank You!" I exclaimed with excitement and relief. "It's been interesting; but I'll be the first to admit that I aint prepared to live here." I began to spill over with explanations. "I don't really like hot weather. I miss skiing and deserts scare me. I hate scorpions, sand fleas and tarantulas and...uh, I'm always looking over my shoulder thinking a scud is going to fall on me."

I paused only long enough for another breath before I launched into a totally different quadrant. "Of course I'm going to miss seeing You; but I guess that really doesn't matter much because You're going back to heaven soon anyways and I can't talk to anyone else until the Holy Spirit gets here."

I took one more breath. "And by the time that happens and I can talk to people about all of this; like in Acts 2; You're gonna be gone. Although I know the Holy Spirit is here now. He's always been here. I don't know why He never left this miserable planet, but He didn't. I know I'm having a bad case of diarrhea of the mouth and really should shut up now, but I guess I just want to say... You've had mercy on me all my life and I really do love You for that; so until I see You again..." I paused one last time before I gave Him a big kiss.

"Uh... Lord!"

A twinge of panic ran through me for what I'd just done... again; and I feared Jesus would really be mad at me this time; but He only put His head down on the seat back and burst out laughing... again. What exactly was so funny; I really wanted to ask, but didn't dare.

I sat for a long time and just waited for what I didn't really know. Jesus finally sat up, wiping the tears He'd snickered so heartily out of His eyes.

"Come on" He motioned as He turned around and sat down.

"Where we going Commander and Chief" I giggled as I crawled over the seat and slid behind the wheel.

"That way." He pointed out of the rock crevice as He fished something He had tied around His waist and handed me the car keys.

"Last thing though." I turned and looked at Him wondering if it really mattered? "Put Your seatbelt on."


	43. Road Trip!

**Road Trip!**

So we pulled out of our hiding place and headed up (down?) the road. Jesus drifted toward me with an ever increasing curiosity of what my hands and feet were doing. I glanced over at Him.

"Clutch, shift, gas; You wanna drive?" I giggled.

"No." Jesus quickly straitened up before mumbling in veiled amusement. "We actually need to get there."

"OK?" I snickered. "Where we going again?"

"Arimathea, unless of course not everyone makes it to our rendezvous point." Jesus pointed. "Go that way."

"Rendezvous? That's a big Latin word that hasn't been invented yet." I laughed. "How do You translate that out of Aramaic?"

"I'm actually… not sure?" Jesus made a funny face. "Something about language structure and tongues interpretation; but… it's a little confusing with a language that hasn't been invented yet."

"Ya mean English?" I smirked with a hint of self abasing irony; knowing English was rather a bastard language _(as much as it was one that hadn't been invented yet)._ "Hum…." I pondered before I posed my next question. "So the interpreters later on in the church…like Corinth; were actually translators?"

"Yes." Jesus answered. "Next road, turn left."

"Weird." I pondered some more. "So with the gift of interpretation came some understanding of the structure of another language?"

"Yes, because the interpreters actually learned the language and often miraculously, as opposed to just speaking with no understanding; and inherent in learning another language, involves learning its structure."

"So that's why Paul said; I'd rather speak 5 words of understanding than 1000 in an unknown tongue."

"Partially that is true; but he was talking there, that the reason for understanding was to be able to teach."

"Well, that makes sense. You can't teach something you don't understand." I nodded in concurrence, before secretly whispering. "Ehh… what do I do about people seeing us?"

"By the time they are organized enough to look for this contraption; you'll be long gone." Jesus chuckled. "Just another odd apparition of local lore, that will be lost to history; but feel free to think autobahn."

"OK." I snickered before stepping on the gas and returning to our original conversation. "So did the interpreters retain this learning?"

"As well as would be expected of someone who learned a language they continued to practice speaking." Jesus answered without missing a beat.

"So if you didn't use it, you'd loose it."

"Yes, that rule still applied… applies… will apply." Jesus amended Himself a few times before shaking His head and cracking a smile. "It's hard to talk about an event to someone who's looking at it from the past, when it indeed hasn't happened yet."

"Yeah…" I pondered the dilemma a moment, before hitting Him with my next question. "But the speaker would not retain what they spoke, because they didn't necessarily understand it?"

"That is correct. Unless they also had the gift of interpretation."

"That is weird!" I flashed Jesus a peculiar look. "Why would someone have one gift and not the other; because, wouldn't they need interpretation to explain to the other non speakers?"

"Yes, this is why if there was no interpreter they were commanded to be quiet; but as far as having one gift and not the other?" Jesus continued. "How many people can quote you Bible verses and still have no idea what they mean?" He sort of grimaced. "It's the same principle, it just happens in a worldly order in your era. Those of the most understanding are those born of the Spirit, who've actually studied. Those too covetous of the miraculous, may get what they want; but still have no idea what it means."

"Aint that the truth." I laughed. "But the people who study for the sake of knowing God, as opposed to just attaining knowledge; really do labor for that understanding."

"Yes, Because you are in pursuit of love; which is not an expressly tangible thing, as knowledge is." Jesus explained. "It's the difference between knowing God and knowing about God. They draw near to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from is no different in the future, than it is today."

"Yet those in pursuit of that love, is because… it: God, is already in possession of them." I posed my next observation. "If they really don't _**know**_ that love; the best they _can_ attain to, is knowledge about God."

"Yes, that is true." Jesus nodded. "And some know a lot of Scripture. They can be very learned, highly educated and very savvy in hiding their lack of actually knowing that love."

"So… what makes it pursuit of love, as opposed to just pursuit of knowledge?"

"Complete…. surrender." Jesus smiled knowingly. "The more complete the surrender, the more known that depth of love is." He giggled a bit. "I implore of you dear brothers… God has granted all of you the measure of faith, yet having gifts differing according to the grace given; for many members have not the same office."

"Hum." I pondered a moment. "So some people attain to a greater understanding of the depth of that love; on account of the task they are assigned?"

"Some greater and some only different." Jesus clarified. "Yet not simply on account of the task. Where much is forgiven, is also greater love; even if they seem insignificant in the earthy realm of the eternal Kingdom." He smiled happily. "Some obtain great wisdom in some areas and not others, because that is the aptitude they are given too; on account of their own circumstances. This is why the one body has many parts. One part may wish to be something else; but also not despising the parts they think are unattractive, because it's often those parts that have the toughest jobs."

"Hum…" I took a moment to absorb what He said. "Not everyone are teachers or preachers; but also, not everyone is cut out for prison ministry, dealing with the mentally ill, or the developmentally disabled."

"Yes, and those…. jobs in the Kingdom, aren't just of desire or aptitude." He nodded. "They often require a certain type of personality."

"A type of personality that some, or even many; don't find… palatable." I made a… painful personal observation.

"Unfortunately that is often the case." Jesus confirmed. "Some are judgmental because of the hardness of their unregenerate hearts; but others plain…. just 'don't get it'."

 _We both chuckled._

"But at least those born of the Spirit, who 'don't get it'; have the humility to admit they 'don't get it'." I lent my observation.

"Yes, because who are you to judge another man's servant? To his own master he stands or falls."

"Hum?" I let out a sigh. "I've been accused of a lot of 'un-Christian things over the course of my walk."

"So have I." Jesus smirked. "But I learned a long time ago that my Father does not judge my behavior, even when other men don't understand it." Jesus paused for a moment of reflection. "Which, more often than not; has been the case."

"Hum?" I glanced at Him a minute. "Esteemed stricken and smitten of God…. that we did not consider him."

"Yes, exactly." Jesus nodded before rendering a command.

"STOP! There they are!" He pointed.

Joseph and Nicodemus suddenly appeared from between a pass and a field of straw; running full sprint toward us. Jospeh was behind Nicodemus 'covering his back' as Nicodemus was carrying little Isaiah over his shoulder. All three of them were covered in blood splatter. Nicodemus dove into the back seat with Jospeh on his heals, when I saw three other men emerge from the pass. They looked like members of Herod's guard.

"AUTOBAHN" Jesus commanded and I stepped on the gas, before Jospeh had actually closed the door.

"CAN I RUN HIM OVER?" I requested in regards to one of these men; who didn't appear to be paying much attention. as he was sprinting toward where we were headed.

"He's a coward. He'll get out of the way." Jesus answered.

And sure enough; he grew saucer eyes, turned on his heals and ran!

"What happened?" I asked as we zipped past a couple of ox carts and quickly disappeared in the dust.

"They murdered Horatio." Jesus answered, as He was turned around talking to Joseph.

"WHAT?" I gasped. "How?"

"They'd ambushed them." Jesus explained. "Horatio jumped between the groups, so these others could get away."

[I got… one of them.] Joseph continued gasping to catch his breath. [Don't think he's dead; but I wounded him.]

[You saved Isaiah's life my brother.] Nicodemus reached out. [I owe you a debit of gratitude.]

It was quiet for a moment before Nicodemus and Joseph realized…. Who else was in the car.

[Lord?] They whispered in simultaneous awe.

"Good morning." Jesus smiled at them. "Or is it afternoon yet?" He joked as He grabbed my arm and looked at my wrist. "Where's your sundial?"

"Back there somewhere." I smirked as I gestured a pointing thumb behind us.

[The book is true.] Nicodemus muttered, still in shock.

[And I guess I get my tomb back.] Joseph added in thoughtless side comment.

"You'll be too busy traveling with the spread of the good news to worry about the tomb." Jesus let out a good natured laugh.

[But what are we to do?] Joseph suddenly looked earnestly at Jesus. [Didn't someone tell Cornelius that the disciples were suppose to stay in Jerusalem until the Holy Spirit was poured out; or did I read that in the book?]

[You read that in the book.] Nicodemus corrected him.

"Don't worry. The Holy Ghost will find you." Jesus chuckled.

[See, didn't I tell you that!] Nicodemus scolded Joseph.

[What about Horatio? What's going to happen now?] Joseph shot out his next question.

"Horatio went to stand before my Father, along with the great multitudes who came out of great tribulation." Jesus answered. "The wicked of the earth do mourn, for I have conquered death."

[The wicked do mourn?] Joseph questioned. [But it's the wicked who rule this earth. We just witnessed them kill an innocent man.]

"Ah Jospeh; yeh learned of the counsel." Jesus answered. "You do not see what's in the spiritual realm. The souls who've been released from their captivity. As sure as you sit here in this strange contraption; they ascend. Those who stand in judgement for their sin do mourn as they await the final judgement; for they know now they are condemned."

[Is this the end?] Nicodemus and Jospeh looked at each other.

"No." Jesus continued. "You will not know the time of the end. The Father holds that in His own jurisdiction."

[What will happen to Jerusalem?] Nicodemus questioned.

"Wars and rumors of wars." Jesus answered. "Flee the city. That's what you're doing now."

"Speaking of fleeing the city." I interrupted. "Where we going now; Boss?"

"Caesarea." Jesus instructed. "We are taking them to Cornelius, so they can sail to Crete."

"How far is that?"

"About 60 miles."

"So we should be there in about an hour." I made a note to self.

"Or less….. on the autobahn."

"Jesus, we're talking about a Geo Metro." I laughed. "Unless You plan on making this thing fly!"

"You want to fly?" Jesus grinned.


	44. Back to the Future

**Back to the Future**

Well we 'landed' in Caesarea without much difficulty, as Cornelius was surprised (and delighted) to see us. Being as shocked about Horatio's death as the rest; he pledged to Horatio's honor that his wife would be cared for, as well as vowing to Jesus that being the noble soldier he was, Cornelius was prepared to follow his Commander and Chief where ever orders would lead.

We'd sat down to a simple lunch, in which Joseph and Nicodemus contemplated what their next moves would be. Joseph decided he would sail on from Crete, to where ever God would lead. Nicodemus on the other hand, was planning to remain in Caesarea until he could organize some assistance to smuggle his other daughter out of Jerusalem; while Isaiah stayed with Cornelius's family. Church legend has it that Joseph ended up in Britain and Nicodemus was martyred, while his remaining daughter left destitute.

So with prayers and departing kisses; Jesus left Joseph, Nicodemus and Cornelius to their appointed hours in history.

We'd gotten on the road; _presumed upon by myself that we were headed back to Jerusalem._ A sand storm was kicking up and I wondered if I should find another place to hide the car while it passed; since I knew blowing sand was not a friend to engines. Yes, it was getting bad; I'd decided as I was about to pull over, when my back tires skidded out from beneath us and we were off.

The sand turned white as it suddenly grew ominously dark and before I knew it, we were doing donuts on an empty road. The car spiraled several times before we finally slowed and slid across a large barren… freeway? I panicked as a half covered green sign caught my eye, while we looped past it. A big thick pile of white powder came flying into my windshield and we abruptly stopped.

I struggled to push myself up, as I had lunged sideways and banged my elbow on the steering wheel. I sat peering out the window in Jesus direction, before I realized what we'd hit was not a sand dune, but a snow bank. The sign we passed said: Denver 56 miles.

"Denver?" I scratched my head. "There's no Denver in… Wait a minute!" I exclaimed in a gasp of surprised delight. "We're back in the 20th century! I'm home. I'm home!" I poked Jesus and started to cry.

"Ugh." was the only response I could elicit out of Him as I realized Jesus didn't fare so well in our little mishap. He was plastered up against the door, trying to peel His face off the window. I flicked the light on, only to see Him rubbing His head and wiping His nose.

"You're bleeding" I let out a gasp when I saw His hands. "But I didn't think You had any blood left?" I attempted to explain. "Didn't You like… shed it all?"

Jesus glanced over at me and tried to turn around. He evidently did a number on His shoulder, besides bumping His head. He managed to wiggle away from the door though; uttering a few words in Aramaic, as I suddenly realized - yeah, tongues had ceased.

 _Oh yes, now back in the 20th century; we again had lost the ability to communicate freely._

"L.. ." He labored to spit out. "Life."

"Life?" I looked at Jesus in a bit of confusion.

"Eh yeah." He responded as He held out His reddened hand and rubbed His fingers together. "Life." He repeated.

I sat staring at Him for several long seconds before I caught on to what He was saying and quickly retrieved the last lone napkin out of the glove box.

"Life and blood" I finally concluded. "The life is in the blood." I pondered a moment. "And with no blood there is no life."

Jesus nodded.

"Wow, I guess I still have a lot to learn." I realized as poor Jesus was bleeding all over His hands. "Oh, sorry." I mumbled as I dug around the inside of the car and finally produced a box of Kleenex. "I guess I figured if You'd shed it all, You wouldn't have any left because flesh and blood can't inherit the kingdom of God." I began to rattle off, as I handed Him tissue after tissue. "But I guess if the life is in the blood; You really wouldn't have been raised to life, if You didn't have any blood: right? You'd be nothing but an animated corpse and this whole redemption thing would be a sham!" I stopped and looked at Him.

Jesus only nodded, again.

"And now You still understand me?" I inquired as I waited for a response in English.

"Aahh?" Jesus sort of shrugged as He went on to spill over with what I assumed was some sort of explanation in Aramaic. I sat and listened, politely nodding even though I couldn't understand a word He said. Now how weird is that? I contemplated as I could perceive He somehow understood me; yet still could not speak a lick of English? Well, I don't know. I concluded as I gave up trying to figure this all out. Whatever; I guess?

I sat scratching my head and periodically glancing between Jesus and the sign that said Denver; when I noticed flashing lights coming our way. "Oh… sh…" I refrained myself from saying the next thought that came to mind. A police car pulled up beside us and I quickly flicked off the light, hoping he wouldn't notice these two strange characters sitting in this car. Weirdos - was the only thought that came to mind, as the officer hollered through the snow.

"Are you alright?"

I cracked my window only enough for him to see my eyes. _(Trying to look like one of these shy mysterious Arab types)._

"Oh yes, I'm fine sir." I responded.

The police officer paused a moment before pulling on his hat and stepping out of his cruiser.

"What do I do now?" I whispered as I poked Jesus, hoping He would just fix this fix I was in.

The officer walked up to the car and shined a flashlight on the both of us.

"What about your friend over there? Is he alright?" He asked.

"Yeah." I mumbled as I glanced over Jesus, who sat with a dozen or so expired tissues in His lap. "He hit the window when I hit the sand dune; I mean snow bank." I quickly tried to amend an explanation. "We uh, _just_ got here from…. Israel.. Sir." I tried to smile; all the while thinking to myself: This isn't going well. We're going to end up in jail.

"Um, I see." The officer gave me one of … _those_ responses, as he clicked off the flashlight and stuck it back in his belt. "And so I've heard they still crucify people over there." He commented, as he leaned over and peered in the window. "So what about it Jesus? You need to go to the hospital?" He asked point blank, as my jaw almost fell into my lap.

"Uh, He doesn't… really speak English." I mumbled, while Jesus made His best attempt to turn and look at the man.

They stared at each other for a minute or two, while I anxiously waited to see what what happened next.

"Well, what do you want to do?" The cop finely shrugged, as Jesus winced in pain, trying to shake His head.

The officer excused himself a moment as he turned toward the microphone that hung off his shoulder and proceeded to radio in. He evidently was hoping to find who had the least busy emergency room. No, we don't want to go to the hospital. I tried to convince myself, as images of Jesus being poked and prodded by an ER full of curious third-year med students flashed through my mind. _All while I tried to tell them He was fresh out of the grave._ I kept shaking my head, as I waited for the policeman to return to the window. Even with all the modern advances in medicine, Jesus would still be a little hard to explain.

"Messiah Lutheran is a little out-of-the-way, but they got a green light. You want to go there?" I only half heard the cop, as he popped his head back in the window and asked a question.

"Well… uh, Jesus doesn't have any insurance." I blurted out the only thing that came to mind.

The officer took one long look at us and burst out laughing. "Alright, suit yourselves." He finally replied. "There's a ski resort up at the next exit here; that's open for lodging. I strongly suggest you take them up on their offer, because if the lights go out; they got generators." He said as he pointed up the road before he turned back to the dispatcher to cancel the call. "You do know there's a big blizzard on its way; don't you?"

I thanked the nice policeman before we got back on the road, all the while wondering; what in the world do I do with Jesus? I let out one big sigh as I told myself not to panic. Ya just got out of a week in the 1st century; ya really _can_ figure this one out. It's not _**that**_ hard. I tried to convince myself, even though it wasn't particularly working.

Help! I started to pray in a rather frantic jumble of confused thoughts. Father, what do I do now? Your son doesn't speak English and the Holy Spirit isn't helping me much either. My mind began to spin. Please don't leave me to figure this out alone. I might hurt myself!

Calm down! I heard a voice in my head, as I suddenly realized that Jesus was patting me on the arm. "Calm down, yeah that's a good idea." I mumbled, as I let out a nervous little chuckle and took a minute to attempt to clear my mind. Then suddenly an actual idea popped in. Well you still have some Vicodin left from when you broke your tailbone rollerblading. It said.

NO! I gasped. Oh my God; what was I thinking? I can't give Him that! That would like… get Him high! I berated the suggestion, as I tried not to think about what Jesus Christ would be like tripping on narcotics. That would not be good. I muttered, as I decided it would be best to not even go there. Maybe I just better shut up and try not to think too hard about this? Maybe, He'll just like… heal Himself?

The moments ticked by as we inched our way towards the exit and the nagging fear that I'd made a mistake hung over me. Maybe we should've gone to the hospital? I wondered, as I could hear Jesus whine every time we went over a bump.

"Sorry." I squeaked with an ever increasing anxiety over what to do.

After all, I didn't want to see Him suffer either. I mulled around and around in my head, when I finally came to the conclusion; that even if I had taken Him to the hospital, they probably would've given Him Vicodin anyways.

Well, I.. I, I just can't drug Him… can I? I struggled as I glanced over a Jesus, who was making the best effort He could to deal with His injured shoulder in this moving vehicle. 'Give 'em a couple of pills and let Him lay down some place.' The voice in my head kept insisting. But I can't really do that? I contemplated, as I battled with the legality of the fact that it wasn't prescribed to Him. Would I really be doing something wrong if I just let Him have some? I wondered. And what if He actually takes it?

After much personal consternation over breaking a human law on account of alleviating someone suffering; I decided I was at least going to offer it to Him. Even though I was hoping on some level He wouldn't take it. After all, I didn't want to be the one holding the fruit in front of some unsuspecting innocent victim. I sighed, as I was so unsure of myself and even wondered if Jesus would really understand what I was giving Him and the possible side effects.

I pulled over as soon as we got off the exit and went searching through my things for the meds. If this was anyone else, I reasoned. I would offer them the drugs without hesitation; so why should Jesus be any different? I questioned, for even though I was not certain about what I was doing; I was certain about one thing. I didn't want to see Him suffering, especially if I could help it.

"Well here we go." I mumbled as I pulled out the bottle and handed it to Jesus.

I expected Him to hand it back to me, but much to my surprise, He only looked at me with an expression that said; what is this?

"Oh, well..uh." I nervously grinned as I tried to explain by pointing to His shoulder. "Ouch, ouch; bye-bye." I smiled as I waived out the window, like I was sending off some little birdie that'd flown away with His pain. "Actually, it'll probably knock Ya out, but at least the pain will be gone." I mumbled as I opened the bottle and He poured out about half of the 15 or so pills that were left. "Oh, no no no no! Not that many!" I gasped, as I scooped most of them back into the container. "You'd have to be raised twice!"

OK, I sighed as I watched Him rather gratefully swallow the two that were left in His hand and chase them down with the water remaining in my canteen. I stuck the bottle back in my bag and prayed I hadn't just made some drastic error by giving it to Him the the first place. Many things floated through my mind as we crept the ten or so miles through the snow to the resort. Maybe it wouldn't have the same effect on Him as it has on me? I hoped. Probably not. I told myself, as I nervously fidgeted with the radio, looking for something other than a weather report. Yes folks, we already know it's snowing.

I tried not to fret too much about Jesus, who was now sitting quietly propped up against the window, as I pulled into the resort. It was a cute little place that looked like an Alpine village; all lit up with its old fashioned replica gas street lanterns that came compete with flame shaped bulbs.

Wow, this place looks expensive. I sighed as I said a little prayer about being able to pay my credit cared bill when this is all over. Well, here is what You've provided us. I thought a moment as I glanced over at Jesus and peered into the sky. I really should say Thank You Father. I chuckled to myself as I pulled on my knee high skirt boots and a long coat, before I slipped out into the cold. It's certainly better than the roach motel we passed on the exit that had 'no vacancy'.

Jesus stirred a minute; almost with a screech as the winter storm swooped into the car while I struggled to get out. Oh Yeah. I thought to myself as I slammed the door. He's as un-used to my cold weather as I was to His hot weather. I signed as I took a deep breath of this wonderfully crisp Colorado air. Yes. I chuckled. This wonderfully crisp ten degree Colorado air.

I set out trudging my way up to the registration building, hoping they had appropriate accommodation for us. I did't really think Jesus would want to be stuck in a room alone with me. What would people think of that? I perseverated as I came through the door and saw the line. What do I think of that?

I waited patiently with all the other snow bound travelers. When I got to the counter, the clerk just asked me how many were in my party and automatically assigned us a room. I refrained from inquiring about this, since the over worked, over tired, semi-cranky employee had already rehearsed her well practiced monologue for the people before me:

"There's been a big accident on the interstate and with the blizzard coming, they are sending all the rerouted highway traffic here. Sorry for the inconvenience."

She rung me up for the estimated two to three days they were expecting for the storm and the dig out afterwards. She approximated they'd have the airport up and running again by the middle of the week. Well, I guess I get an extended vacation. I said as I gathered up my credit care receipts and room assignment.

I was headed back toward the door when I discovered we'd been put in a cabin. Well good. I breathed a sigh of relief. There should be plenty of room. I guess I feel a little better.

I squeezed back into the car, doing my best to keep the snow from squeezing in with me and drove the few minutes to the location we'd been assigned. It looked like a cozy little spot with a friendly light to welcome us in from the outdoors. I smiled as I fumbled with the card and went inside to case the joint.

"Woah." I gasped as I stepped in the door and looked around. "Nice place." I mumbled to myself as I checked the credit card receipt to make sure I had the right cabin.

It was a cabin alright, with log walls and rustic furnishings in red and brown forest bear decor. A tiny kitchenette tucked into the corner, flanked a living room and two doors along the side wall.

Behind door number one was a bathroom with a double sink, whirlpool tub and fluffy cream colored towels with cute little black bears adorning their ends. Behind door number two was a bedroom with a thick forest themed curtains that covered a sliding glass door leading to a back patio. The bed was snuggled in a down comforter paired with flannel sheets complete with little bears wearing scarves and mittens. Half a dozen fluffy pillows adorned the head of this king sized bed, complete with one stuffed bear. The furnishings were heavy rustic and wooden; hewn from primitively milled logs sanded and stained to a warm walnut finish. Beautiful furniture and appropriately weighted to guarantee that no one was going to steal it!

I wandered around the living room and kitchen for a minute, just to see what was here. The kitchen housed a two burner propane stove, an RV sized refrigerator and a couple of cupboards to put a few staples in. On the adjacent wall was a massive stone fireplace with a mantle mounted TV and entertainment center cubby holes built into the wall. Rustic lamps flanked this fireplace. Perched before this massive stonework, sat a comfy couch, a coffee table and two chunky wooden chairs; complete with stuffy cousins accompanied by bear themed pillows and throw blankets. On the desk next to the front door sat a phone, takeout menus and hotel lodge information.

OK! I smiled. I like this place. Now, how do I get poor Jesus in here?

I traipsed back out into the snow and when I got to the car; I tapped on the window. Jesus opened His eyes, but didn't move otherwise. How am I going to get Him out of there? Short of opening the door and trying to stop Him from taking a dive into the snow; _as if He isn't in bad enough shape at this moment?_ I shook my head as I eased the door open and slipped my arm in. I managed much better than anticipated, without poor Jesus landing in the parking lot. It was then though, that I discovered my assumptions about the Vicodin were correct. It certainly didn't have the same affect on Jesus as it had on me. No, it never left me nearly unconscious.

Jesus did His best to help assist me in putting socks and boots on Him, so He could get into the cabin; but unfortunately, He couldn't seem to find His feet. He kept trying to put His sock on my hand and pulling on the straps of the liners I'd removed form my winter boots instead of the boots. I popped the boots on His feet, in hopes they would surface well enough just to get inside.

We did manage to wade through the almost knee deep snow, past the door before Jesus decided He needed to take a seat. The door closed behind us, automatically locking as it snapped shut; while He plopped onto the floor, just looking around in befuddled confusion like Alice lost in Wonderland. But didn't You know this was going to happen? I wondered, as I leaned over to help Him up. He kicked the boots off and scooted across the floor to the nearest piece of furniture; in which He managed to pull Himself to standing with one arm.

"Well that's impressive." I mumbled as I watched Him looking around and thought of all the past events of the last three days that required the sheer strength of one obviously very healthy man. Crucifixions and car accidents and even after all that; You are still very human, reacting in a very human way to having ingested a mind altering drug. Oddly as it seemed, by all appearances of being quite impaired; it didn't affect His moral judgement. He never did anything stupid like try to kiss me or take all His clothes off; and all the more, I started to see the separation between substance and sin.

I tagged along as Jesus stumbled from one piece of furniture to another before He made it across the room, bumping into the wall and took a look behind the doors. He stuck His head in the bedroom and then stopped and turned and looked at me. He sucked in a deep breath before He swung around; seeming determined to get over to the bed before He fell on the floor again.

He climbed among the fluffy covers and sat down; in which He only looked in my direction a minute or so, before He passed out. Oh No! What have I done? I suddenly panicked as I ran over and jumped up there with Him. Not thinking, I grabbed Jesus's injured arm. He let out a yelp and and I heard His shoulder pop as He rolled over. He then breathed one last deep breath and closed His eyes.

"Oh Father forgive me for I have no idea what I'm doing!" I pleaded in a half wail as I put my head down on the pillow next to His shoulder.

I was on the verge of absolute panic when I realized He still had a pulse. "Ya mean Yer not dead?" I caught myself asking as I picked my head up and looked at Jesus. Well of course He's not dead! That little voice between my ears reminded me as I sat watching Him breathe. If being crucified couldn't keep Him in the grave; Vicodin certainly wasn't going to do squat! I realized as I could feel the strong steady beat of the brachial pulse in the arm I was still clutching. He turned His head, opened His eyes briefly and cracked a smile before He quickly fell back to sleep. I guess that last breath was just a sigh of relief. I sighed myself, as I too put my head down.


	45. Rocky Mountain High

**Rocky Mountain High**

I awoke to broad shinning sunny daylight and a sense of relief, that what I was surrounded with indeed; still looked 20th century. What ever kind of dimension of time, space or reality this is: I guess I'm getting used to it? I chuckled as I looked over at Jesus, who was laying next to me in sound slumber. Guess the dilemma of where to sleep, He decided for Himself. I shrugged in amusement, as I noticed that what He'd really decided was that He didn't particularly care for big fully pillows. Nope, they were all stacked up on the floor next to the wall, while He lay face down with outstretched arms into the bare space. Whatever works. I smiled as I got up to check on the state of our weather conditions.

I peered about the back porch and noted it had stopped snowing. It was beautiful out there, but - uhhh; man was it deep! My jaw just about hit the floor when I realized the snow came clear up to the window sills and that wasn't even a drift! Even after having lived in Buffalo, _which is one of the snowiest cities in America_ ; I was dumb struck by such accumulation.

As I made my way out to the cabin's main room; I cracked open the front door and noticed a small pathway had been started up our walk. Beyond the two and a half foot dip in the path of our exit, stood an eight to nine foot snow bank from all the plow's previous passes through the parking lot. I gotta go dig out my camera (among other things - ha ha) and check this place out. I decided as I threw on my coat and boots and forged into the great out doors.

They must be used to this, I chuckled as I stood just outside the door looking at the shovel that waited patiently for me. This is Colorado peeps - dig yourselves out. I laughed as I pulled on my gloves and hood and proceeded toward the task at hand. Once I'd dug past the might snow banks that flanked either side of our front path, I paused a moment to take in the mountains and hills of our little alpine resort. Wow! What a spectacular landscape! I sighed in awe, before I surveyed the work that still needed to be done, just to get to the back of my car. Yeah, I was well acquainted with snow; but had to confess. I wasn't quite prepared for this!

"Better than shoveling sand!" I smirked as I flipped white powder over my shoulder to retrieve my luggage. As long, warm and snuggly as my dress coat and boots were, this 1st century Roman toga was not cutting it! I laughed as I dug around in my pocket for my keys. I left the shovel by the car; stabbed into the snow like the singing sword of excalibur, as I lugged my suitcase back into the cabin. Now that's better. I sighed as I tossed it up into a chair and closed the door.

I peered through the living room at Jesus, who still hadn't moved; even after my excursion to the car. No, He'd managed at some point during my slumber to get all snugged up in the comforter; probably dreaming of sand storms in Israel as opposed to snow storms in Colorado. I pondered a moment as I considered what an absolute culture shock this must be to Him and I don't mean just the weather.

I sifted through my suitcase and gleefully pulled out something clean and warm and 20th century…. and American! I sighed in relief as I threw back my head, staring at the ceiling; "God it's good to be home!" I laughed as I clicked my heals together three times and headed off to hit the shower.

I scampered into the bathroom and closed the door, before I started to lay out my morning routine in almost ritual style. I planned my hours of storm watching and shudder snapping as I mentally logged all that I had to get accomplished this day. We needed some breakfast and poor Jesus needed weather (as well as era) appropriate clothing. I let out a little chuckle as I tried to figure _this_ one out. Unfortunately for both of us, America isn't as simple as small, medium or large tunic. No, besides simple shirt and pants; Jesus needed a coat, hat, and gloves; not to mention shoes socks and underwear. Oh man. I smirked with a little self conscious dread. What do you buy a guy who's probably never worn pants before?

Well, I'll ask 'Daddy' on some help with this one. I decided as I went hunting around for bathroom extras. I found some bubble bath and pretty smelling spa soaps in the closet with the luxurious, fluffy combed Egyptian cotton bath sheets. I let out a little chuckle as I extracted a fat folded flounce of fluff, turned on the water and started to get undressed.

I waited for the tub to fill as I glanced across the room, just to make sure I was out of sight of the mirror before I peeled off the last layer and hopped in the tub. Why is something like that so hard for me? I wondered as I curled up into a little ball and waited for the warm water to sink into my chilly bones. After what happened two days earlier; watching this naked man suffocate to death, the paradox of the shame I felt, seemed so overwhelming. What is wrong with me? I wondered, trying not to cry.

Millions of questions and the creepy crawly thoughts that scurried across my mind as I sat in this tub aimlessly swirling the washcloth through the lavender scented bubbles. I thought about Jesus, the searing lacerations and the 40 year old body He seemed little concern about any of us staring at the mess He was. How odd that seems to me right now? I shuddered in half horror and half disbelief, as I tried to reconcile why it didn't seem so odd at the time?

I sat for a long while in the warm water with my chin in my hand, just thinking about all that's happened in such a paradoxical experience as this has been; even going all the way back to the beginning. Here was…is… Jesus, someone I thought I should be afraid of and for some strange reason - I don't feel that way? I tried to figure this one out. Why is that; when I spent so many years in these 'righteous', religious churches just absolutely petrified? Yes, wrath is a real thing; yet why was the One who should be angry… not? I thought about it for a while, when I came to an all conclusive - _**I don't know.**_

I pondered the question a while longer, searching for the answer, about to give up in total frustration, when my thoughts were suddenly shattered by a tap on the door.

"Huh?" I remember turning my head when I saw the door crack open and a hand wave at me; then point toward the toilet. "Ehhh, I guess I have been in here an awful long time." I suddenly realized, as I reached behind me and pulled the curtain around the tub.

"Uh… It's safe, You can come in now." I whispered as loud as my cracking voice would allow.

I heard the pitter patter of hurried feet scamper across the cold floor, before came a sigh of relief followed by… potty noises.

 _It was quiet for another moment or two._

"Ehh…?" A question came from the other side of the curtain as a finger tapped tapped on it.

"What?" I hesitantly peeked out as Jesus peered over at me pointing and gesturing… no sticks and sponges? He shrugged.

"Charmin." I chuckled as Jesus's predicament suddenly dawned on me and I pointed to the toilet paper roll that hung on the wall next to Him. He too pointed at it as He pulled a bit off the roll. Yes, I nodded.

"Oh!" He exclaimed as He rubbed it between His fingers and smiled approvingly, before He wrapped His hand around the roll and gave it a squeeze.

"Mr. Whipple!" I exclaimed as Jesus flashed me a confused expression and I started laughing. "Don't worry, You'll get it when You start watching TV." I explained as I pulled the curtain shut again.

I waited patiently another minute or so, staring out the beveled Coca-Cola glass window, while Jesus did what ever He was doing and got up to go wash His hands. When I heard the water from the sink, I knew it was safe to peek again. He dried His hands and strolled back over, now pointing in the toilet and giving another shrug.

"Pull that lever." I gestured, as Jesus followed my instructions, nodding in half amazement and half amusement as He watched the toilet flush. He pointed at the descending water and let out a little laugh. "Yeah, and just to think if we were in South America, the water swirls in the opposite direction."

Jesus stood a moment, seeming to ponder this reality as He twirled a finger in the air, in recognition that yes indeed; we resided on a spherical planet. Yeah! He nodded and shrugged as He peered into the toilet and pushed the handle again; all apparently for the entertainment that 20th century sanitation provided.

"Jesus?" I asked as He turned to head for the door.

"Huh?" He turned around.

"Why am I not afraid of You?"

Jesus stood a moment to give this question considerable thought as He conversed back and forth with the Father a moment, before He was sure He understood what I was asking. He held one finger up. Wait a minute, He seemed to mumble in Aramaic before He made a hasty exit.

He returned minutes later with one of my Bibles, flipping through the pages. I could hear the constant conversation that continued on in Aramaic, as He finally stopped at the desired passage and laid the book on the sink counter. From there He picked up the small packet from which my lavender bath once resided and carefully laid it across the page. With this, Jesus only glanced over at me and smiled, as He pointed to the page; then left the room.

As soon as I heard the door click shut; I grabbed my towel and hurried over to the Bible. I stopped, wiping the water off my face as I leaned over the mysterious message left for me. The book was opened to Jeremiah and though the packet rested at the end of verse 14; the only underlined part jumped out at me:

 _ **For I know my thoughts that I think toward you; saith the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you an expected end.**_

My eyes filled with tears as I stood wiping my face with the towel. I tried to read the rest of the passage, but kept getting caught on the words - thoughts of peace and not of evil. How many men stranded here with me in this ski resort would have thoughts of peace and not of evil? I cynically asked myself as I sat on the floor, wrapped up in this bath sheet and cried.

After about ten minutes of trying to hold in all my varied emotions, punctuated by the occasional sob that couldn't help but escape; I finally pulled myself together enough to finish drying off and get dressed. I tried not to think too hard about this vicarious situation I was in and instead focus on the contents of the passage I'd just read. I wasn't afraid because for some strange reason; I felt safe. Yes, I was fighting with myself and all of what I thought was suppose to be 'holy' along with the frustration that I just couldn't 'wake up'. Even at that though, I realized more and more that if this…. person was going to do anything to hurt me; he would have done it by now!

With some renewed confidence of sorts; _(if that's what one would really want to call it)_ I walked out into the other room.

My eyes wandered around the… 'living space', before they rested upon the fireplace; which was now running all cozy warm, while Jesus sat in one of the big stuffy chairs next to it. As I wandered over, I noticed He was leafing through a large picture book with intense interest. I peered down to see what ever it was that had struck His fancy with such undivided attention. Hanging from this picture book, sat a fold out photo of a park ranger with Yosemite in the background; as Jesus leaned over the opposite page, seemingly trying to decipher the English words.

Jesus glanced up, when He noticed curiosity had gotten the best of me. "Ooooh!" He exclaimed with great enthusiasm as He flipped back several pages to one He'd slipped a small paper into. With a great big grin and words I couldn't understand; He held up another large panoramic photo of the Grand Canyon. It took a moment before I realized what I _thought_ He was indicating.

"Now that You finished what You came to do and before You go back to heaven; You want to go tour this planet You made!" I finally started to laugh, for the ironic humor in this; as I shrugged and concluded with: "Well, that's a little far away; even on the autobahn."

Jesus started to laugh as He just began chattering away of what ever He intended to say to me; but was at a loss for a translator. He only shook His head, tossed His hands in the air and mumbled a few words at the heavens; the last of which was "Eang-lise". Either way, I got the point about His intent to speak English. Even though I understood tongues had ceased; it still seemed rather strange that someone who'd done so many miracles, couldn't just…. make us talk to each other?

"I don't know?" I finally shrugged as I started to organize myself for the errands I had to run. I tried to explain where I was going and what I intended to do while I was out; but I wasn't quite sure He understood me either? Either way, He gave me a little blessing for my journey and indicated that I should just go do what ever it was I needed to go do. I told Him I'd get Him something to eat before I left; as I dawned my winter attire and gathered my keys and bag.

Jesus wasn't paying any attention to me though, as He'd abandon His picture-book tour to stare out the window. I watched Him a minute pointing at things He apparently was engaged in awe struck conversation over; when a bad Karaoke version of a John Denver song began to play in my head.

 _ **He was born in the summer of his 27th year,**_

 _ **Coming home to a place he'd never been before.**_

 _ **He left yesterday behind him, you might say he was born again.**_

 _ **You might say he found a key for every door.**_

 _ **When he first came to the mountains his life was far away,**_

 _ **On the road and hanging by a song.**_

 _ **But the string's already broken and he doesn't really care,**_

 _ **It keeps changing fast and it don't last for long.**_

 _ **But the Colorado rocky mountain high.**_

 _ **I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky.**_

 _ **The shadow from the starlight is softer than a lullaby;**_

 _ **Rocky mountain high (Colorado)**_

 _ **He climbed cathedral mountains, he saw silver clouds below.**_

 _ **He saw everything as far as you can see,**_

 _ **And they say that he got crazy once and he tried to touch the sun,**_

 _ **And he lost a friend but kept his memory.**_

 _ **Now he walks in quiet solitude the forest and the streams,**_

 _ **Seeking grace in every step he takes.**_

 _ **His sight has turned inside himself to try and understand,**_

 _ **The serenity of a clear blue mountain lake.**_

 _ **And the Colorado rocky mountain high**_

 _ **I've seen it raining fire in the sky**_

 _ **You can talk to God and listen to the casual reply**_

 _ **Rocky mountain high**_

 _ **Now his life is full of wonder but his heart still knows some fear,**_

 _ **Of a simple thing he cannot comprehend.**_

 _ **Why they try to tear the mountains down to bring in a couple more,**_

 _ **More people, more scars upon the land.**_

 _ **And the Colorado rocky mountain high.**_

 _ **I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky.**_

 _ **I know he'd be a poorer man if he never saw an eagle fly;**_

 _ **Rocky mountain high.**_


	46. Lord of the Dance

**Lord of the Dance**

I embarked upon all my tasks with thoughts of this man I'd left back in the cabin reeling through my head. I went to the reception desk, checked the phone book and made some calls. There wasn't much open in this flash of a punch of winter fun that had so unexpectedly hit us, but I did find a shop. They said they could probably fix the headlight without much of a problem, but the crunched fender would have to wait till I got back home. Well, that's alright. I can live with that. I told the serviceman before I hung up and headed to one the resort's many restaurants.

I ordered breakfast for myself and room service for Jesus, as I tried not to think about the poor soul who had to deliver it. What kooks come to stay here! I chuckled, as I quickly glanced through the menu and decided on a biscuit breakfast sandwich for me; while Jesus was getting French Toast and a turkey club with side salad for lunch. The Bible passage about Peter and 'rise, kill and eat' kept 'hunting' me down, as I looked at the side of bacon that came with the breakfast. Well, anyways; I'd be interested to see if He eats it. I chuckled as I put my order in; picked up my sandwich and headed out to get the car fixed.

I slid into town on roads that were barely passable, but at least open. It was quite a mess; (I realized probably a bit too late) as it seemed any and every vehicle that had something that resembled a plow was out lending its aid. The repair shop I'd finally made my way too was backed up; chains, blades and hydraulic systems they were trying to patch together before the next wave of snow would hit. The attendant told me to leave the car and the keys and he'd be able to get to it after noon. He gave the standard apology for the long wait and invited me to have a seat in their new waiting room. I declined, for a more adventurous trek down the street to the only store that was probably open in this whole town - Walmart!

Eco-challenge - middle of nowhere town - wasn't as arduous as I thought it was going to be. The snow had stopped, the wind died down and the sun was actually trying to peek through. Though the sidewalks were totally buried, I found it comforting that I was not the only pedestrian making my way down the street. Evidently this shopping center sat smack dab in the middle of town and at least a few of the surrounding residents decided it was easier to walk than shovel the three to four feet off the tops of the cars. The lucky dogs with snow shoes though! Fortunately for us pedestrians; the vehicle traffic was light and moving real slow, as a good percent of the road traffic was on foot.

I wandered into Wally World wondering… where's Waldo and what in the world was I... well, going to work on for two hou-wers? I chuckled to myself in all of my whimsical - uh; whatever?

I still had no idea what to get. I let out a sigh as I grabbed a cart and made my way back to the men's department, hoping maybe even to find some good bargains? Help me out here. Give me some ideas. I kept mumbling, as I perused the racks looking for something that 'looked right'?

I picked up some socks and T-shirts. At least I can't get that wrong. I smirked as I studied the sizing charts on the back of the packages. Trying to guess by height and weight, I decided a 'small medium' or 'large small' would probably work the best; _depending of course on 'preshrunk' or not._ I decided as I tucked the socks under my arm and continued picking through the T-shirts. Jesus was certainly not very big by twentieth century American standards and I knew since I fit into a men's extra small or even a youth size 18/20; He'd be somewhere round about a small. But if it shrinks a lot; better go with medium. I decided as I tossed the packages into the cart that was tagging along behind me.

Underwear now; I'm totally clueless! I muttered as I rounded the bend and stood staring blankly at the racks before me. There were briefs and boxers; long legged, short legged, patterned, colored, ribbed, bikini and even g-strings. _No, let's not even go there!_ I tried not to laugh as I turned and stared at my measly two packages of T-shirts and socks. I'd been standing in these two isles for 45 minutes already.

I was just about to give up and try again later, when I heard a woman's voice coming around the corner from the T-shirt isle I'd just been standing in. "… he say; I like, please bring." She commented to her friend as I turned my head and they walked over. Strange answer to prayer. I thought to myself as I watched these two Muslim women out of the corner of my eye; while they searched the racks for the same product as the empty plastic package the one held in her hand.

Evidentially she was from Africa. I noted as I listened to her accent, while she chatted with her American friend. Rwanda? I thought to myself as memories of the refugees I'd worked with, while on field work assignment from the local community college I once attended, came to mind. I attempted to be as casual as I could in observing which rack they took from. I figured if African men who essentially wore the same type of clothing as my time warped / culture shocked.. uh; Friend, would find these comfortable - He shouldn't be any different. So, problem solved - I guess? I concluded as I snatched up the last package of medium long legged cotton briefs and tossed them in my cart.

The rest of the shopping seemed easier for some reason. I found a warm coat, two 'active wear' turtlenecks, a couple of pairs of decent looking polar fleece athletic type pants and a knit sweater that wasn't too loud; _matter of fact, it wasn't very talkative at all._

Off in the shoes I found a pair of boots that landed somewhere between huge and tiny. Interesting? I thought to myself; since there must be some reason they are the last pair here. _And they are on sale too!_ I smiled as I tried to think of suitable clothing for a middle-aged man who'd probably appreciate 'a little roomy' and comfortable.

Next stop; hat and gloves. I decided before heading over to the grocery section for some simple staples: bread, eggs, milk, coffee, tea, mayo and tuna. I snickered as I wondered if Jesus had ever actually eaten tuna? I knew it wouldn't have been common; because it is a salt water fish; but than again, maybe there was some… 'awfully salty tuna' in the Dead Sea?

So with all that; I took one last look at the loot in my cart and headed to the check out. Everything seemed a tad big. I contemplated as I mentally tried to log each item's appearance after having been laundered in hot water a few times. I checked the hat and mittens again to ensure their warmness factor. Guess I'm set. I finally decided as I got in line.

I trudged back down the road to the repair shop where I could see my car was still in the garage. So from thus, I made a detour to the laundry matte that was down he road a piece in the direction I'd come when I dropped my car off. The facility really wasn't open, but I guess the proprietor felt sorry for me standing out in the cold; so he let me in anyways. He said I was luck he was even there. He'd stopped by to pick up some tools in order to fix an electrical problem he was having back home. He sized me up a moment, figuring I looked harmless enough.

"Slam the door tight on your way out." He said as he wound the crash bar on the door to 'lock' and left the building.

Such a small load didn't take long on 'short wash / max spin' and even less in the dryer. I realized as I folded my presents and neatly arranged them according to bulk; back into the shopping bag from whence they'd come.

I still felt like I was in a movie? I contemplated as I gave the door a yank, just to make sure it was closed tight. Fragmented scenes from It's a Wonderful Life flipped through my mind like the flicker of a film reel just as it appears to go backwards, just before it 'catches up' to real life. I had to think about that one a moment.

I wandered near the road as I stared up into the sky, before my eyes settled back upon a side walk plow that was making it's second pass. The poor slob was half way up his door into a snow bank. I chuckled as I headed down the road.

Back at the car repair shop, I took my turn in the waiting room. Evidentially with my attempt to 'move mountains' (of snow) I'd damaged the radiator too. I'd known that though, since when I left this morning, I could see a little patch of green in the parking lot under the car. The mechanic said he'd take a look at it and in his attempt to fix one thing; he broke another. _Hey, at least he was honest about it._ Even so, I was OK with the new radiator. It needed to be replaced eventually anyways, before the leak got too big. So, we agreed on cutting some of the labor costs; since the mechanic inadvertently made it worse.

With the vehicle finally finished, I made my way back to the resort, thinking about Jesus and wondering if these clothes are going to fit Him? I really hope He likes them; seeing how He aint got much of a choice right now. I chuckled as I inched back out of town. The main road to the Interstate was clearer than I expected. I happily grinned as I picked up some speed and cruised back to the resort's parking lot.

I pulled up to the cabin and gathered my stash of presents as I stepped out of the car. As I approached the door, I suddenly noticed something was rather odd? I could hear music! Music yes; I recognize that song. I pondered as I encroached upon a window to see what was going on?

I dropped the bags in amazement as I peered inside and could hear the drums and synthesizers lead into the another song. Apparently Jesus had found one of my David Meece tapes. I started to laugh as David began to sing:

 **In the stone cold tomb he lay; early in the morning.**

 _And Jesus began to dance._

 **Laid with him the hope of day; early in the morning.**

 _I rested my head on the widow and began to giggle._

 **Saints and angels fearful pray; yearning for a dawning.**

 _Don't think this was actually meant to be seen by anyone._

 **Breaking on the silent grave; early in the morning.**

 **Alleluia! O the bright dawn breaks! Alleluia! Alleluia!**

 _I smiled and hummed along._

 **Alleluia! O the sweet king wakes! Alleluia! Alleluia!**

 _Oh yeah, He's awake alright!_

 **Long the anxious claws had gripped; early in the morning.**

 _If the fundamentalist Baptists could see this? I pondered a moment._

 **Now the vanquished claws have slipped; early in the morning.**

 _As Jesus stomped around to the beat of the music._

 **Now the bragging dragon trips; head so high now fawning.**

 _And made up His own jig._

 **Mouth denied, forever drips; early in the morning.**

 **Alleluia! Empty claws proclaim. Alleluia! Alleluia!**

 _Native American fancy dancing. I thought for a moment._

 **Alleluia! Now the good king reigns. Alleluia! Alleluia!**

 _As He twirled around in circles and His clothing followed the flow of the music._

 **Steady in the waining night; early in the morning.**

 _I began to sing along; all the while wondering if He understood the words?_

 **Risen morning Star our light; early in the morning.**

 _There's an ironic sense of beauty to this._

 **Dragons breed again to fight; fearful is their taunting.**

 _Modern Mozart, rock beat, Christian pop music._

 **But we trust Lord Thy great might; early in the morning.**

 _And Jesus Christ is dancing to this!_

 **Alleluia! Saints and angels sing. Alleluia! Alleluia!**

 _I happily laughed as I watched this free form movement / make it up as He goes along._

 **Alleluia! Praise the risen King. Alleluia! Alleluia!**

 _The things God does when man isn't looking. I giggled._

Jesus took one last twirl before He collapsed on the floor and suddenly noticed me standing there in the window. He started to laugh as He put His head down on the floor in what looked to be a hint of embarrassment.

"Oh but that was cute!" I exclaimed as I burst through the door and had to return outside momentarily for my forgotten packages.

I hurried into the cabin, kicked the door shut and got down on my hands and knees. I crawled over next to Jesus, who was still on the floor with His forehead on the carpet, giggling in near hysteria.

"I enjoyed watching that." I whispered as I reached out to brush the hair away from His face. "You're very sweet." I told Him as I leaned over and kissed the top of His head.

Jesus sat up with His hands covering His face and leaned back against one of the chairs.

"No person ever see me do like this." He giggled as I just stared in amazement.

"You spoke English… again.." I mumbled.


	47. Difficult Dance of Discipleship

**Difficult Dance of Discipleship**

Jesus was still on the floor laughing as I got up and took my coat and boots off. I just stood a minute, arms folded looking down at Him. His laughter was contagious and I was giggling just watching Him laying there giggling. Finally He managed to amble to His feet.

"Hey, I bought some food." I suddenly remembered as I scurried over to the groceries and motioned to Him to lend a hand.

Jesus opened the first bag I handed Him and peered in at its contents as He followed me into the kitchenette. He began handing me items while I stashed them into their respective storage locals.

"I didn't know You could dance?" I giggled as He handed me the plastic bags and I stuffed them in a drawer.

He began to giggle too as He got this curious look in His eye; of some radical idea behind that look. He suddenly spun around halfway; searching the room before He scurried over to a particular remote and started pushing buttons. The beginning of Pachelbel's Canon in D commenced from off of one of David Meece's arrangements. Jesus tossed the remote into the chair and turned to me with His hands out.

"Huh?" I looked at Him a bit apprehensively.

Come here. He motioned.

"Oh NO!" I started shaking my head as I waved my hands in front of me. I can't dance. You gotta know that!

A couple more bars of music passed and apparently Jesus was ignoring my protest, as He'd already grabbed my hand and pulled me toward Him.

"I do. You learn." He confidently declared as I shot Him a leery look.

That sounded a bit 'imperative mood' to me. I grimaced in protest. "Please leave me alone." I meekly pleaded, but to no avail.

"Is not hard, even you do." He smirked as He took hold of my one elbow and my other hand. "You learn this." He nodded encouragingly.

"Er..Kay." I growled disapprovingly.

The dramatic music tapered off and David Meece began to sing.

 ** _Deep within, this darkened heart of mine._**

 _ **The word of God still shines...with hope.**_

 _ **Deep within, this frightened life I live.**_

 _ **A voice, so soft and still... grows.**_

 _The words stuck in my ears as we started with a couple of basic steps across the floor._

 _ **When the sun is hidden, and the shadows cloud my starless skies,**_

 _ **Amazingly, I turn and see a light.**_

 _The music crescendoed and Jesus began to move._

 _ **God's promises are rainbows in the night.**_

 _ **Shining hope in sight, when shadows cloud my eyes,**_

 _ **His promises are rainbows in the night, guiding through the darkest time.**_

 _ **God's promises are rainbows in the night.**_

 _The music slowed again and all I could think is: This isn't fair, You got better rhythm than I do. Jesus just looked at me and giggled. Come on - I know you know the song._

 _ **Looking back, on all the roads I've known.**_

 _ **The echos are the songs, I've sung.**_

 _ **Looking back, there's a thread of love and grace.**_

 _ **Connecting each line in space, I've known.**_

 _ **All the years I thought were lost, on empty searching without clues,**_

 _ **Now trace a journey to the highest truth.**_

 _OK, OK. I muttered to myself as I tried to feel the flow of the music. Jesus, I'm not liking You so much right now. He didn't seem to care though._

 _ **God's promises are rainbows in the night.**_

 _ **Shining hope in sight, when shadows cloud my eyes,**_

 _ **His promises are rainbows in the night, guiding through the darkest time.**_

 _ **God's promises are rainbows in the night.**_

 _Pachelbel's Canon picked up again and Jesus moved faster. OK, OK. I begrudgingly confessed that the less I fought Him on this, the easier this was. Finally I started to calm down and actually listen to the music. The flow... flowed a little more easily, so long as I let my feet move and Jesus take me where ever it is that He wanted to go. Surrender is uncomfortable though._

 _ **God's promises are rainbows in the night.**_

 _ **Shining hope in sight, when shadows cloud my eyes,**_

 _ **His promises are rainbows in the night, guiding through the darkest time.**_

 _ **God's promises are rainbows in the night.**_

 _The music tapered off and almost within the next beat David Meece started to sing again._

 _ **Lift me up to higher ground. Lift me up I'm sinking down**_

 _ **And I know the water's cold and I might drown. Lord lift me up to higher ground.**_

 _OK, OK: I gave Jesus a look. You're really funny now. He just glanced at me and started to giggle again, as He continued across the floor._

 _ **I feel the night closing in, I feel the tide rising again.**_

 _ **And serenity slipping away from me. Oh no.**_

 _ **The sea of life, it batters the shore. The water's higher than ever before.**_

 _ **Gotta find me away to get out of here. Gotta find me a way to get past the fear.**_

 _Ehhh...Yeah; past the fear!_

 _ **Lift me up to higher ground. Lift me up I'm sinking down**_

 _ **And I know the water's cold and I might drown. Lord lift me up to higher ground.**_

 _OK, I thought to myself, as I'm almost singing to the music. This dance is beginning to get a bit more complex._

 _ **I've done my best, I still can't win. There's no rest from this state I am in**_

 _ **Insecurity's getting the best of me, Oh no.**_

 _ **I see the light on the distant shore, but I'm too tired to row any more.**_

 _ **Won't you give me the strength to get through the wind. Won't you show me the way to get home again.**_

 _Ehhh... Where do You get the energy?_

 _ **Lift me up to higher ground. Lift me up I'm sinking down;**_

 _ **And I know the water's cold and I might drown. Lord lift me up to higher ground.**_

 _The steps became intricate and quite entwined; a beautiful rhythmic syncopation finely tuned to the nuances of the music. How quickly I acquire this skill though, depends on how submissive I learn to be._

 _ **Lift me up to higher ground, before my soul starts sinking down**_

 _ **And I know the water's cold and I might drown. Lord lift me up to higher ground.**_

 _ **Lift me up to higher ground. Lift me up I'm sinking down**_

 _ **And I know the water's cold and I might drown. Lord lift me up to higher ground.**_

 _The refrain continued a few more rounds before it faded into the next song. I immediately recognized this tune, for it is one of my favorites off this collection. I started to giggle a bit as we kept going; although frankly, I was getting tired._

 _ **Lord, Your mercy came and it made me sing, with all my heart.**_

 _ **Blessed be the name of the One who brings, such a fresh new start.**_

 _ **Ah, now the air smells clean**_ _ **and the grass looks green.**_

 _ **The sky looks bluer**_ _ **than, I've ever seen,**_

 _ **And You made my sweetest dream come true**_

 _ **And I want to live for You**_ _ **\- For the rest of my life, for the rest of my life**_

 _ **And I want to give to You**_ _ **\- All the rest of my life, all the rest of my life**_

 _ **Lord, You've proved again Your love extends**_ _ **to the deepest need**_

 _ **When I hit the end Your love begins**_ _ **and from there You lead**_

 _ **Lead through an open door, to a royal shore, a royal kingdom**_ _ **where;**_

 _ **My heart explores**_ _ **and the more I learn the more I sing**_

 _ **And I want to live for You- For the rest of my life, for the rest of my life**_

 _ **And I want to give to You**_ _ **\- All the rest of my life, all the rest of my life**_

 _I started to slow down a bit and when the next song began, the opening bars stoped me dead in my tracks. Jesus only stood there. The lyrics began and I heared my own voice echoing through the chambers of my past._

 _ **This prison has no walls. This bondage has no chains.**_

 _ **My memories have no mercy. There's no one left to blame.**_

 _ **Wish I could force back the hands of time and right every wrong.**_

 _ **Grant me just this one last chance, but it's gone, gone, gone.**_

 _Jesus stood quiet as David Meece sung on without me. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I wasn't even sure I could cry; but I could shake like a shell shocked soldier._

 _ **How could I be so blind as to doubt Your love? How can I go on living without Your love?**_

 _ **Seventy times seven. Will You forgive me for all that I've done.**_

 _ **I'm so afraid of what I've become...ohhh.**_

 _I yelled at Jesus._

 _ **For all the promises laid to waste.**_

 _ **For all the seeds unsown.**_

 _ **For all the justice I never faced.**_

 _Jesus suddenly yelled in response._

 _ **I must now atone.**_

 _ **Is there a soul that can't be saved?**_

 _ **Is there a heart that has no hope?**_

 _ **Is there a peace that can still be made?**_

 _David sung alone as I stared at Jesus with a profound sense of awe. He knew the words!_

 _ **Please say it's so...oh oh.**_

 _ **How could I be so blind as to doubt Your love? How can I go on living without Your love?**_

 _The exchange begun._

 _ **Seventy times seven.**_

 _ **Will You forgive me for all that I've done.**_

 _ **Seventy time seven.**_

 _ **I'm so afraid of what I've become.**_

 _ **Seventy times seven.**_

 _ **Will You forgive all that I've done**_

 _ **Seventy times seven.**_

 _ **I'm so afraid of what I've become!**_

 _David Meece continued on alone._

 _ **And if I should kneel before You, would You lay Your hands on me, or turn me away.**_

 _ **And even if I should tremble, deep in my heart I won't be afraid.**_

 _(Jesus echoed)_

 _ **I won't be afraid. I won't be afraid.**_

 _(I echoed)_

 _ **Seventy times seven.**_

 _ **I won't be afraid. No, no. Seventy times seven.**_

 _ **Will You forgive me for all that I've done.**_

 _ **Seventy times seven.**_

 _ **I'm so afraid of the man I've become.**_

 _ **Seventy times seven.**_

 _ **Will You forgive all that I've done.**_

 _ **Seventy times seven**_

 _ **Your love can save me from what I've become.**_

 _ **Seventy times seven.**_

 _ **Seventy times seven.**_

 _The thoughtful piano of the next song started as I sunk to the floor in tears. Jesus quietly sat down._

 _ **All at once He walked beside me, like He'd been there all along.**_

 _ **Not a stranger, but a Father, who could sense when something's wrong.**_

 _ **And He answered all my questions**_ _ **and He understood my fears,**_

 _ **That somehow vanished now that He was here.**_

 _ **Can't you see Who walks with you?**_

 _ **Can't you hear Who speaks your name?**_

 _ **Can't you feel something stirring in your heart?**_

 _ **How His words reign strong and true;**_ _ **like a once familiar strain.**_

 _ **Could the paths we follow from now on; be the same?**_

 _Jesus held His arms out and it took me a few more minutes to be quiet enough in my head to receive His solace. After several minutes, our sitting grew increasingly uncomfortable; so Jesus simply laid down on the floor, gazing at the space above us just lost in His own thoughts. I lay there next to Him, my head on His shoulder and with one arm across His abdomen; I closed my eyes and just listened to Him breath. Before too much longer, this had slowed too and it seemed Jesus was asleep. Before the song had ended; I was half way there myself._

 _ **I couldn't bear for Him to leave me.**_

 _ **So I begged Him to stay.**_

 _ **Spend the evening, a few moments,**_

 _ **Before He went His way.**_

 _ **Then like a host He stood and blessed me,**_

 _ **Broke the bread and poured the wine,**_

 _ **And there was something I knew I recognized.**_

 _ **Yes, I can see who walks with me.**_

 _ **I can hear who speaks my name.**_

 _ **And I can feel a stirring in my heart.**_

 _ **Oh How His words, His words ring strong and true,**_

 _ **Like a once familiar strain,**_

 _ **And I know that I'll never be the same.**_

 _ **I can see!**_

 _ **And from that moment in time, I felt the emptiness subside,**_

 _ **And all the glory of His power shining through.**_

 _ **And for the first time in my life, I really looked into His eyes,**_

 _ **And saw eternity and suddenly I knew.**_

 _ **Yes I can see. I can see who walks with me.**_

 _ **I can hear who speaks my name and I can feel something stirring in my heart.**_

 _ **How His words still ring strong and true, like a once familiar strain.**_

 _ **And I know I'll never be the same.**_

 _ **I can see!**_


	48. The Tempted and Transformed

**The Tempted and The Transformed**

David Meece must have sung through at least his third round and we'd changed positions a few times. I only being half awake, stretched out my right arm under Jesus's head (who now had His back to me) wrapped it around the front of Him and pulled the two of us together. This only made Jesus marginally awake, when I buried my face in His hair. I sucked in a deep breath. He still faintly smelled of spices. I giggled and started kissing Him.

Well needless to say, I don't think it was maybe two minutes before Jesus was wide awake and wiggling away. He sat up and swung around to face me. Still being a bit groggy. I pushed myself up to a half sitting position and stared curiously at Him through bleary eyes. He was a bit sweaty and breathing fast with an expression on His face that I couldn't quite identify. I scooted closer and peered a little more carefully at Him. His pupils were dilated.

"Are You OK?" Was all I could manage to mumble.

"No touch me." He responded.

"Why, because You haven't ascended to the Father yet?" I spilled out the first thing that came to mind.

"Yea…. exactly." He replied in deadpan seriousness.

I sat up and flashed Him one of those 'yeah, OK this is weird' expressions; when He got up and scurried into the bathroom. I only sat there staring at the door when I heard the water turn on and He emerged maybe…. 20 minutes later with wet hair. Apparently, He'd taken… a shower?

"I now… calm; again." Jesus nodded in the affirmative.

I just stood up and stared at Him in befuddled fascination. "Huh?" Was all I could manage.

"You kiss me." He said. "You remember kissing me?"

"Yeah…. I .. I think so?" I responded.

"Well." Jesus let out a bit of a nervous sigh. "If I kiss you like this; what you do?"

"Let You." I confessed thoughtlessly.

"OK. OK" Jesus threw His hands up in the air as He let out a bit of an exasperated sigh. "You say the truth. Next question." He sucked in a deep breath as He slapped His hands to His face and flashed me one of those expressions of; what do I say now?

He paced the floor a few laps before He got an idea.

He hurried back over, took me by the arm and escorted me to the desk and chair that sat near the door. There He plopped me in the chair, while He looked around a minute and grabbed my study back pack. He brought it over and began handing me books. He gave me my Bible and put a particular concordance on the table next to me. After this He pulled out a pen and pad of paper.

"You like search words." He said. "This is good. You find answers. I give you where to look." He smiled seeming rather confident that this was going to clear things up for me. He flipped through pages, apparently praying for assistance to find what He was looking for. "Here." He pointed to a verse. "You write down." He said, peering at page reference as He pressed a pen and paper into my hands; then moved on to the next page. In total, He gave me about 3 to 4 passages from various parts of the Bible to research.

After this, He walked back toward the door and looked in the bags I'd brought in. He pulled some clothing out of one of them and went back into the bathroom. He emerged 5 minutes later dressed for a new century.

"I guess… I guessed well enough on sizes." I said as I looked up at Him, noting that although the clothes didn't fit perfectly. He seemed comfortable enough. "How do You feel?" I asked.

Jesus stuck His hands down inside His athletic pants and began tugging on the legs of His underwear. "Weird." He responded.

He sat down and I watched while He fumbled with a pair of sox. After He put the boots on, I helped Him lace them up and tie them. Then He pulled on the sweater, coat, hat and gloves. He said He was going for a walk and would be back before dark.

"OK". I said trying to sound cheerful as I gave Him a key and a ten dollar bill. He opened the door and I pointed Him to the lodge. I told Him where to find food if He got hungry. "Thank you." He said as He stuck the bill in His pocket. He paused a moment before He kissed the side of my face, went outside and closed the door. Well, I guess You're not mad at me. I sighed as I leaned against the wall staring blankly into the room. What do You want me to know? I guess I got some verses to study.

 _ **Meanwhile - out in the cold December air:**_

 _Jesus wandered through the parking lot kicking snow in front of Him. He'd rarely ever seen snow before in His life and certainly not this much of it. He took His gloves off and scooped some up from an evergreen tree. He played with it a bit as it melted in His hands, before He started making snowballs and flinging them at random objects. Once He realized He still could make snowballs even with the gloves on, He had a new found joy in throwing them to His heart's content._

 _Once bored with that, He made His way to the lodge; pausing a moment to look at the display of carved wooden animals all arranged at various heights around an obnoxious looking tree wearing a red cap, holding a makeshift sign that read: snow ball firing range._

 _Oh, OK. Jesus shrugged with a smirk as He seemed to decide this was the perfect opportune time to practice His pitching arm. So after He managed to amuse Himself by knocking the raccoon, the skunk and fox off their pedestals, He started lobbing snow balls at the moose's head. Once the novelty of this wore off and He put the critters back on their stoops; Jesus went inside the lodge._

 _He looked around the front entrance and to His left saw a dining area and to the right was the reception desk. The clerk wasn't paying any attention when Jesus wandered into the dining room. There was a family sitting around watching the news and complaining about the weather and airport closings._

 _Jesus watched one child as he got a blue and white package off the counter and some hot water out of a large dispenser. There were a couple of dispensers that appeared to disperse different colored liquids and several examples of plastic wrapped pastries sitting next to the drink dispensers._

 _Jesus took His hat, gloves and coat off, left them on a chair near a table, then walked over and poured Himself a cup of….. something? He looked in the cup, sniffed it, took a swig and made a funny face. What was that stuff He drank this morning? It was pretty good. They must have some more of that around here somewhere? He decided as He scanned the area. Not really sure what was in each dispenser, He went down the line and tried them all. Then He tried mixing them together. Well that didn't taste any better. Finally Jesus found some milk in a small refrigerator. He hadn't really drank milk since He was a child; but at least He knew what it was._

 _After this, He moved on to the food. Past the strange looking plastic wrapped… sugary things, was some fruit. Grapes, He recognized those. Thanks! He chuckled as He picked a bunch and popped a few in His mouth. They didn't really taste like the grapes He was familiar with, but at least He deemed them more edible than the plastic wrapped sugary things._

 _Next object that caught Jesus's attention was a small evergreen tree sitting in the corner on the other side of the room with colored lights and …. things hanging off of it. Well isn't that odd. He gave it a puzzled expression as He realized this tree wasn't even a real plant. There are hundreds of real trees just like this outside; why is this one in here? He leaned over to look at the things hanging on it. There were stars and music notes and little funny… humanoid looking objects with wings. Jesus started to snicker. He'd guessed they were suppose to be angels._

 _Moving along He came to a box filled with little people neatly arranged around a baby. He leaned over and peered inside; then burst out laughing when He realized the baby was suppose to be Him. His giggling caught the attention of a little girl who came running over followed by her brother. Jesus turned around. The others who'd been watching the news apparently had left and these children were the only ones here besides He. They both looked to be about 8 years old._

" _That's Jesus!" The little girl announced as she pointed into the box._

" _No_ _ **THAT'S**_ _Jesus!" Her brother replied pointing at… well, Jesus._

 _Jesus smiled and waved to the boy._

" _That's not Jesus." The girl scolded him._

" _He's got holes in his hands!" Her brother pointed out._

 _The little girl stood looking thoughtfully at Him. "But he doesn't look like Jesus?" She concluded. "Jesus has blond hair."_

" _Only at grandma's house does Jesus have blond hair." Her brother retorted as he walked up to Jesus and grabbed one of His fingers. "See!" The boy showed his sister as he'd stuck his pinky almost strait through the hole in one of Jesus's hands._

" _Kailey! Austin!" A woman's voice echoed through the corridor. "Where are you?" She called just before she realized her children were talking to some strange man in the dining room. "What are you doing?" She was suddenly panicked. "Why are you talking to my kids?" She ran over._

" _But mom, it's Jesus." The boy said as he pulled Jesus by the arm between his mother and sister; the boy's finger still in Jesus's hand._

 _The woman nearly screamed in horror as she grabbed her children and yanked them away. She didn't say anything, just stared at Jesus like she'd seen ….. a dead body._

" _Mommy what's wrong?" The little girl asked._

" _That's not Jesus." The woman gasped. "Jesus is dead."_

" _No mom, see." The boy wiggled away from her; side stepping her attempts to corral him and took a running leap into Jesus's arms. "He is risen!" The boy exclaimed._

" _Yes, risen in deed." Jesus laughed as He hugged the boy and then set him down._

" _Th…th..that's not even funny." She stammered._

" _Hey babe, did you find them?" A tall man in a cowboy hat came strutting down the hall. "What's going on?" He inquired as he too hurried over._

" _Dad, it's Jesus." The boy repeated. "See." The boy went to grab one of Jesus's hands._

" _Don't touch him!" His mom nearly shrieked as she slapped the child's hand and tried to rustle him away. The boy kept inching back toward Jesus. "You're grandmother's got to stop taking you to that church." She muttered breathlessly._

 _The man stood a moment staring at Jesus's hands while his wife absconded with the children, hustling them out into the lobby. "That real?" He questioned as he took the cup away from Jesus and began examining both hands. "You got a hole in your side too?" He chuckled jokingly. Jesus nodded. "You shittin me right?" The man asked as he pulled Jesus's shirt and sweater up. "Oh F…" He mumbled as he let go of Jesus's clothing and nearly ran the other way._

 _Jesus stepped out of the dinning area back into the lobby. He stood quietly as this mother was still struggling with her little boy; who was now on the floor refusing to leave until he had a chance to say bye to Jesus. Her husband stood there staring at Him in deadpan stunned silence. "Let him go." He finally told his wife._

 _Distracted by the seriousness of her husband's instruction, she let go of her son. The boy jumped up and ran back to Jesus. Jesus leaned over and stopped the little boy, turned him around and pointed back to his parents._

" _Go to mom and dad." He instructed the child._

" _But when will I see You again." The boy asked._

" _About one year." Jesus whispered._

" _Are You coming back then? For good!" The boy asked._

" _No." Jesus responded. "Your cancer is."_

 _The boy stoped a moment and looked at Jesus. "OK" He whispered a bit hesitantly as he stared at the floor and swept some candy wrappers which escaped the trash bin around with his feet. "But I hate the hospital." He sighed._

" _Your Father sends Trixie and nurse Clara to help." Jesus reassured him._

" _She's still there?" The boy looked up at Jesus. Jesus nodded and the boy grinned big. "I like nurse Clara." He said. "But Trixie has to stop trying to bite my balloons."_

" _Oh, she's good girl." Jesus chuckled. "Best doctor on four legs."_

 _The boy started to giggle before he held up a hand and Jesus gave him a high five before he started slowly walking backward toward his parents. His father stooped down and picked him up. Both his parents stared at Jesus._

" _How'd he know about Clara and Trixie." The boy's mother mumbled._

" _Maybe God really_ _ **does**_ _exist." Her husband whispered contemptuously to her before he left the lodge. She shot him a deadly glare and then dragged their little girl outside._

 _Jesus stood a minute or so longer before He decided that He'd probably caused enough ruckus here today. So He walked back over to His coat, put it on; as well as picking up His gloves. He strolled back out to the lobby, where He stoped to look at the rack of brochures haplessly assembled there. There was a zoo, an amusement park, several antique stores, an aircraft museum and a shopping mall. Jesus picked up the shopping mall advertisement and began unfolding it. They have an 'escape from King Tut's tomb room', a rope obstacle course, climbing wall, flight simulators, laser tag, two arcades, a multiplex with Imax theater; along with a bunch of restaurants including Olive Garden and Cheesecake Factory. Jesus took a closer look at the pictures. He has no idea what cheese cake was, but it looked intriguing._


	49. Neiman Mark Up

**Neiman Mark Up**

I sat staring at the door with the notebook in my lap. I was having a really hard time digesting what I'd just studied. Was I really not alone in this struggle? Could Jesus have a far better understand of my... _problem_ than I had? Of all the things I thought I knew about God? Things I wasn't sure I wanted to know now? How could this be?

The door cracked open and Jesus sloughed in, kicking snow off His boots before He turned around and pushed the door closed. He let out a sigh and looked at me. I wasn't sure what to say, if I should apologize, tell Him 'I get it...finally.'; or tell Him that I really didn't like what I'd learned? Did I now have less respect for Him just because He was more human than _**I**_ wanted to believe? Who am I to judge what God decides? I kept telling myself. Let God be God. I sighed as I just sat staring at Him, He looked so very vulnerable to me now.

"Here." He smiled as He walked up and handed me something. "We go here." I took it from Him and looked at it.

"A shopping mall? You want to go to a shopping mall?" I asked, not having the foggiest idea why? Jesus didn't seem like the shopping mall kind of guy to me. "Well OK." I raised one eyebrow. "It's not _**that**_ far and traffic report says the roads are pretty much clear now." I sighed. "I... gotta talk to You though." I mumbled.

"Yes, I know." He replied. "This why we go here."

Not sure why the shopping mall had anything to do with what I needed to talk about; but I got up and got my coat on anyways. We gathered up the items we needed and traipsed back out into the parking lot. I got in the car and started the engine to let it warm up a bit, as Jesus walked around the outside wiping snow off with His arm. I pulled out a snow brush and followed Him for 'fine tuning'. Once the car was adequately dusted, we climbed back in and I fiddled with the temperature controls until the heat was adjusted comfortably. I sat for a moment before stepping on the clutch and putting the car in reverse.

"I'm sorry." I finally confessed as we pulled out of the parking lot and began heading toward the freeway.

"Sorry for...; being alive?" Jesus asked. "Life do these things." He laughed. "This a part of... fabric of life."

"I think I get that now." I sighed after a long pause.

"God is living; so things living obey God." Jesus answered. "This is why more living things they make. Now, you obey by means that God directs, or disobey by abominable acts? Acts that be abominations do not follow this command. They be abomination because they not follow this command."

I looked at Jesus a minute for as odd as His English was; what He was saying actually made sense to me.

"Be fruitful and multiply is awfully frustrating when you can't" I grumbled.

"Can't does not stop want." Jesus laughed. "No matter if this command is... inconvenient; is what life wants."

"I guess that's why they call it a drive." I commented.

"Drive that way." Jesus pointed offhandedly as He was fiddling with the GPS. He now had the thing upside down. It's not a compass. I thought to myself as I just glanced at Him and snickered.

"I guess I just never figured that included You too." I sighed as I turned down the road the GPS had announced.

Jesus started to laugh. "How can Creator exclude own self? Would that be living Creator?" He asked. Now moving the GPS around to see if the picture moved too.

"I guess it wouldn't." I answered.

"Beside this; God obey His own word." Jesus confirmed as He plugged the GPS back in, on account of His hapless playing disconnected the power cord. "This what make me want to too." He honestly confessed.

I only sat momentarily peering at Him out of the corner of my eye, for the last comment He'd made, before turning my attention back to the road.

"How it know were we go?" Jesus asked; inadvertently changing the subject as He appeared to be trying to look inside the GPS.

"Huh?" I glanced over at Him. "Oh, it gets a signal from a satellite." I giggled. "That's how it knows where we are. Then it orients direction based on the maps that are programmed into the computer system; related to the signal bouncing off the satellite."

"What?" Jesus said as He shook the GPS. "Oh, I break it?"

"No, it just lost the satellite signal for a minute." I laughed as I took it away from Him. "But if You keep doing that, You will break it." I set it on the dashboard as we were sitting at a light, about to turn into the mall. I just turned and looked at Him. How do You know so much that I don't and not know so much at the same time? I marveled.

I parked the car and we headed inside the nearest anchor store; as we were right next to Neiman Marcus. Halfway through the men's department; I paused to ask one of the clerks where the restroom was. As she pointed me up stairs; I noticed Jesus had become distracted by a pile of sweaters sitting on a display. I walked over to Him and He just sort of carelessly handed me a sweater; (as I'm not sure if He actually wanted it or not) and wandered over to another display.

"Well, that _**is**_ a nice soft wool" I mumbled to myself as I examined the subtle cabling on the sleeves. Nice design too; You got good taste in clothes. I thought to myself as I searched for the tag. $1200. I nearly dropped the sweater on the floor.

Oh yeah, this is Neiman Marcus! I suddenly remembered as I looked around for guess Who. I really don't like to say 'no' to God, but I think I better get You out of here! I grimaced as I tried to fold the sweater up as neatly as possible and hurried over to retrieve Jesus, who'd now gotten Himself into another pile of Paris runway designer sweaters. Put those back! I tried not to panic as a sales person had honed in on Him too. I better beat her there. I thought as I scurried over, when suddenly Jesus turned around with the... flippin scariest article of clothing I think I've ever seen in my life; which is about 4 sizes too big for Him, to boot.

"Jesus...Christ" I mumbled as I could only glare. "What, You going to an ugly sweater Christmas party?" I started to giggle.

The clerk was giving me a leery glare.

"No, actually that is Jesus Christ." I tried to explain, as apparently she thought I was cursing at Him. "You wanna see?" I asked as I grabbed His arm and pulled one glove off.

She only shook her head, waving her hands in the air and quickly walked away from us.

"Well... that went over well." I mumbled before I turned to Jesus. "How much is that thing anyways?" I asked, just for curiosity sake.

Jesus looked for the tag. "$3400." He answered.

"WHAT?" I squeaked as I rustled this hideous epitome of Christmas cheer out of His hands. "That can't be right?" I muttered as I looked at the tag. Sure enough, that's what it said.

Jesus only stood there, looking hapless and a bit confused, as apparently He had no idea what things cost in the 20th century.

"Ehh..." I glanced at Him a minute. "Between the two of us; the total cost of _**all**_ the clothing we're wearing is probably about $200." I whispered as I pointed to the price tag. "Three thousand, four hundred: We... two hundred." I nodded and Jesus started nodding too.

"Neiman Mark Up." He suddenly quipped.

I only looked at Him in a moment of awe. "You're smarter than humanity will ever give You credit for; You know that?"

Jesus only glanced at me before His attention turned back toward the sweater. He held it up in front of Him and started to giggle.

"What?" I inquired.

"Forty year in wilderness, and they garment never wear out." He started to laugh.

"Now, that would have been cruel!" I smirked, before posing the following inquiry. "Who's the maker?" I gestured.

Jesus glanced over with a puzzled look. "I Am." He declared; as if I should have already known that.

"That wasn't a theological question." I started to laugh. "I meant the sweater."

"Oh." Jesus giggled a bit. "Who is admit to making ... ehhh?" He commented as He searched for a tag. "...Gushy?"

"Gushy?" I leaned over to see what He's looking at. "That's Gucci." I laughed.

"Same same." He responded in confirmation. "And God see all that _**He**_ make and behold is not gushy."

At that point I struggled to contain myself, as I grabbed Jesus's arm and nearly ran to the other corner of the store.

"What?" He protested.

"20th century toilet house. You're in for another culture shock." I mumbled as I nudged Him toward the mens' room. "Neiman Mark Up have Charmin." I told Him as I scurried off into the other restroom.

Once we finally managed to navigate our way out of Neiman Marcus; I come to find that this mall was quite large and Jesus apparently had been suffering from culture shock from the moment we walked in the door. He's looking around, endlessly meandering as we turned down a long corridor.

"Todo, I don't think we are in Kansas any more." I started to laugh.

Jesus stopped and looked at me a minute. "What is Todo?" He asked.

"Oh, never mind." I waved His question away. "It's not important. But it does look like it's my turn to keep You from getting lost." I chuckled as I grabbed His hand, suddenly struck by the silliness of the paradox of God getting lost.

We kept walking until we nearly passed the food court, in which Jesus veered off and headed toward the carrousel; dragging me along. "Where are You going?" I muttered, now a bit annoyed. Jesus stopped in the middle of the food court and surveyed the scene; until He spotted a little corner convenience store.

"There." He pointed.

We walked in and He searched around a minute or two more; before He walked up to a vending machine. He stood inspecting it a bit, before He held His hand out and wiggled His fingers.

"You want to buy a lottery ticket?" I looked at Him with one raised eyebrow.

"Dollar and dream." He responded in deadpan seriousness.

"OK?" I chuckled with a shrug as I pulled some money out of my wallet. "How much You want?" I asked. Jesus pointed. I gave Him a $5. "You know the fundamental Baptists would really love You for this." I mumbled in side comment. He didn't seem to be paying much attention to me though; as He inserted the bill into the machine and hit the button. The ticket fluttered down to the bottom and Jesus reached in to retrieve it; then handed it to me. I just looked at Him a minute as He rose to His feet. He stood looking at me like; what's the problem?

"Ehh... How much did I win?" I finally inquired; figuring there was some legitimate reason He dragged me in here.

We wandered back into the food court and sat down. Now curiosity was eating my brain, so I pulled out my car key and scratched the ticket. I looked at it a moment. We just won $3000. I looked up at Jesus. "My Father own it; I pay for us." He shrugged.

"Yeah." I mumbled still in disbelief as I looked at the ticket again, just to make sure I read it right. "The cattle on a thousand hills and Colorado state's lottery system." I then peered over at Jesus. "You don't want to go to Vegas next; do Ya?" I started to laugh. He shook His head. "No, I didn't think so either."

We sat another couple of minutes as I couldn't decide if I should put this ticket in my purse or give it to Jesus for my own fears of losing the dumb thing. I looked at Him and pointed to the ticket. He waved me away. OK I shrugged as I tucked it into my purse and nervously walked back to the store to cash it in.

"So what's next?" I asked upon return, as Jesus began looking at one of these square announcement cards that listed the mall events.

"We go here." He smiled as He pointed to a picture of a kid repelling.

"You wanna go climb a rock wall?" I flashed Him a peculiar look.

Jesus only nodded with a big grin.

"Ehh - Why?" I hesitantly inquired.

"Because is there!" He quipped.

"OK?" I only shrugged.


	50. Another Time and Another Place

**Another Time and Another Place:**

We headed down the corridor to the atrium where all the entertainment items apparently were housed. It lived at the far end of the mall; quite large with restaurants and a few stores on the first floor; arcades, laser tag and the cinema-plex on the second; and what looked like bar/night club on the third.

There was also a huge tree in the middle of this atrium that I had to seriously contemplate it being an actual life form. I decided: it probably was, since it looked to be growing against the glass in the ceiling. Natural or man made; it was still a pretty impressive sight. I smiled as I looked up at it's huge branches.

On the other side, this rock wall was about 3 stories high and sat adjacent to a large glass paneled window with a beautiful view of the town below and the mountains in the distance. I just stood and stared outside.

"This is my Father world." Jesus giggled as He started to sing. I chuckled at Him as He looked around a bit and then headed for the rock wall.

"So are You actually going to climb that thing?" I mumbled as I follow Jesus, peering up at the expanse above me. The extensive rope maze was dangling from the 2nd floor; I paused a moment. Wow, that's wild; I stood and stared. Jesus was already over at the climbing wall entrance, where resided a person in charge of paper work and three fellows that assisted the climbers. He motioned to me to hurry up as He pulled out the $10. I'd given Him earlier and handed it to the clerk.

I came up next to Him as He's stood listening to the instructions the woman behind the counter was giving to the people in front of us. She handed them paperwork and then walked down by us and passed the same papers to Jesus. He looked briefly at the three page packet and handed it to me.

"You read." He said in a noncommittal tone.

OK…? I glanced at Him with a sort of smirk, as I took the packet and looked it over.

"This is a consent form that You won't sue these people if You get hurt." I told Him. "You have to sign this." I continued to mumble. "What are we going to put on here?"

"Huh?" Jesus looked at me.

"What's Your name?" I held the pages up before I leaned over and whispered: "I don't think we can put Jesus Christ on here." Jesus only looked at me and shrugged like: why not?

"OK, OK, You fill this out then." I handed Him the papers and grabbed a pen off the counter. He only shrugged as He walked over to a table, took His coat and sweater off and sat down. He looked over this packet a minute and started writing in the blank spaces. I followed and peered over His shoulder. He's filling it out… in Hebrew.

"Oh, You're really funny aren't You?"

He looked up at me. "I not learn to write English." He innocently shrugged and pointed to the next line. "What this?"

"Birth date." I smirked as I too took my coat off and pulled up a chair. He was writing in Roman numerals along with some other letters. "Now what did You put?" I curiously inquired.

"56 year of Augustus Caesar." Jesus replied in all seriousness; while I put my head down on the table and tried not to laugh.

Finally Jesus flipped the paper over and signed it;….. in Aramaic.

"OK, now what'd Ya put _**there**_?" I made a funny face.

"Name and town." He answered while I tried hard to control my laughter. He signed Jesus of Nazareth in Aramaic on the signature line of this paper. I looked at Him and shook my head in an ironic sense of utter disbelief.

"I hope they don't ask for ID." I smirked while Jesus just held up His hands. "Oh, You are hysterical; just absolutely hysterical aren't You!" I swatted Him as I started laughing all the more. He only shrugged and smiled.

I sat at the table with the coats while Jesus got in line to be fitted with a pair of shoes and a climbing harness. I wonder if anyone's going to notice the scars on His arms and hands? I sat and watched as He was being introduced to His climbing spotter. The spotter looked at His hands a minute, smiled jubilantly and then slapped Jesus on the shoulder. He seems like a nice fellow. I began to ponder, as I wondered if he recognized Jesus?

They walked over to the furthest wall; the one labeled 'most difficult' and I sat and watched in utter shock. This wall had a couple of outcroppings on it, is set on an incline and almost no one besides 'experienced climbers' tackle this level of wall. OK, I thought to myself. I'm going to be really impressed if You make it to the top of this thing.

Jesus started to climb and it didn't seem too difficult for Him from the point He realized the trick was to keep your hips close to the wall and climb like a frog. He stoped and rested in a few places before He got to the first outcropping. He stopped there too and looked around apparently trying to see what the best way up was. His spotter talked to Him, giving Him tips. He climbed over the first outcropping without too much difficulty and started the inverted ascent to the next outcropping. He was about 1.5 stories up now and I started to think to myself. Don't look down. He kept climbing until He got to the second outcropping. By this point, people on the ground were starting to cheer.

The spotter yelled instructions as to how to get your feet over this section. You basically have to get up far enough to swing your legs to catch a crack; then pull yourself up by both your arms and one foot. It requires thought, strength, skill and a little bit of speed. You don't want to be stuck on the underside of this rock too long, because you're going to get tired too quickly. At this point it's basically a scramble to get past this part, but one that takes a lot of upper body strength.

Well, after sitting, resting and planning a bit. Jesus started His scramble. He did exactly what the spotter told Him and to my amazement and profound sense of… delight? He made it over this outcropping. People on the ground were clapping and cheering encouraging Him to finish the ascent to the top of the wall and ring the bell. The spotter carefully monitored the rope that would keep Jesus from falling, should He lose His grip. Talk about trusting men and not tempting the Lord thy God? I found it perplexingly curious that Jesus would even be doing this to begin with?

He worked His way across the hand grips, pushing with one foot and pulling Himself up toward a standing position solely by His arms. It took a minute before He figured out where to put His other foot. I sat in dumbfounded amazement that human beings actually have the capacity to do stuff like this. People were whistling and cheering as Jesus had successfully gotten Himself into a standing position on the front side of this outcropping. He stood there and rested for several minutes before finishing the final ascent and slapping the buzzer. The bell started ringing and lights flashed as people clapped and cheered.

Now came the fun part. The spotter yelled instructions as Jesus adjusted the rope on the harness and began to repel down this wall. He got to the bottom and flopped down on the mat laughing, while He tried to catch His breath. He seemed pretty pleased with Himself.

The spotter helped Him up and commenced a slow clap at the accomplishment before he started unhooking the rope from the harness and Jesus climbed out of the harness. They grabbed each other's hands in a fist and slapped each other on the back in a sort of 'man hug' before Jesus headed to the exit.

All I could do was sit and stare at Him as He came ambling up to me. He leaned over with His hands on His knees, still breathing heavily from this ordeal before He took the next couple of steps and planted Himself in the chair next to me. He was all sweaty and giggling as He put His head down in His arms. All I could do was sit there and stare at Him.

Jesus finally sat up and looked at me. "Impressed?" He asked. All I could do was nod in awe. "I too!" He burst out laughing as He put His head back down. "This climb is hard."

He lay there a few more minutes attempting to calm Himself before He started waving His hand around. He sat up flailing one hand in near hysterical laughter; as I was attempting to play with His hair.

"Oop, sorry." I apologized as He now realized that annoyance was actually me. I grinned in embarrassment as I quickly pulled my hand away and sat on it.

Jesus folded His arms and looked at me, periodically bursting into reserved rounds of innocent giggling.

"What?" I mumbled.

Jesus didn't say anything. He just periodically giggled, turned away, glanced back, giggled some more and turned away again; seeming to be doing His best to control His mirth.

"What?" I suddenly felt a bit self conscious.

He sat a minute searching; then flashed me a perplexed look. "I am waiting, for another time and another place….?" He questioned.

"No." I objected as I put my hands over my ears and turned the other way. "I don't want to deal with that." I waved my hand behind me.

I could feel Him trying to capture my flailing arm before He pulled me toward Him.

"If I be tempted; why not you?" He whispered in all seriousness. "Is man more righteous than God?"

"NO." I acknowledged as I flung around and stared directly at Him. "I don't want to be this way." I gritted my teeth and pounded my frustrated fists on the table.

"You are normal." Jesus calmly confronted my fearful denial.

"But I don't want to _ **be**_ ….. _Normal!_ " I rumbled to near eruption, when I suddenly heard the absurdity of what I'd just said.

Jesus put His head down on the table and laughed a moment before He looked up and tasked me with a rhetorical question. "What you afraid of?"

I had to think a minute before I could come up with an answer. "Losing control." I mumbled.

"You already lost this; and in more way than one." He added. "You know man is not of control of this world."

"I know." I finally admitted. "I'm just scared that if I'm 'normal' I might do something I don't want to."

"You do this anyway." Jesus shrugged before He took a calming breath. "Even if;… of more excellently behaved than average. You do what you do not want."

"But, I never wanted to do anything in life that I felt I needed to be ashamed of." I helplessly muttered; but more to myself.

"Yet you are ashamed even when you do well." Jesus slapped the table and held His hands out in a questioning shrug.

"Why?" I looked over at Him "What's wrong with me?" I nearly started to cry.

Jesus simply let out a sigh, leaned over and gave me an encouraging squeeze. When He let go, I flopped back in the chair and just starred at Him.

Why do I loath myself even when I'm not the one to blame? My thoughts started to run a mile a minute. Why do I feel like I'm always the one at fault; yet at the same time, not really disliking myself? I'm not a narcissist and I'm also not a serial killer. I do know in so many ways I'm average. And that's OK.

And then in some things that are really important to me, I've done far better than I ever thought I could. Why do I think that when ever something goes wrong, it must be my fault and I'm so overly willing to listen to those who would point the finger at me; half of which of them don't even really know me from Adam.

 _I sat back staring at Jesus, Who was just quietly watching me; waiting for…..?_

As dumb as this sounds, I feel like I've lost sight of a sense of self; that I should be whatever anyone else thinks I should be. What if they are right? I keep asking myself; even when I know they aren't. Why don't I think I have the right to be a person? Everyone else has a right to self existence, why not me? How did I miss that? How did it get taken away? How do I get it back, so I can be the person You want me to be, not who I think I should be, or who anyone else thinks I should be?

 _I didn't move as the tears began streaming down my face and I found myself talking to Him in my head._

I want to be the me I'm suppose to be in You. I know autonomy is important. I know our sense of self is important. I'm not 100% sure why, but I know it is. I know God is an autonomous moral agent and I know the rest of us were designed to be that too. This is how we are accountable. And this is how I know on some level that I'm not accountable for sin committed against me, or things that have happened that I had no hand in. How do I get my autonomy back though; and in a rightful way. How do I get my sanity back?

And maybe that's why I have a hard time accepting some of the 'normal' of me. I know I have a strong personality because I wouldn't have survived if I didn't! It was stand up and be heard or die. And I don't regret that I chose to stay alive, and I know I had a lot of help. So how do I get back what's rightfully mine, so it can occupy it's rightfully ordained place and… be rightfully useful.

 _I stared wantonly at Jesus._

Now I know You get it because I know You certainly have an unshakable understanding of Who and What You are. Doesn't mean I understand it very well much of the time and often times, what I learn boggles my mind; but I can say with confidence that what I know is truth - is true and it's solidly so.

I also know that it's OK to know things. Knowing one knows certain truths doesn't automatically make one think they know every thing. And saying: I know what I know, and I know I know it - is not arrogance either; particularly so when that knowledge is built on the foundation of truth.

I've suffered a lot from people telling me that I was out of touch with what was true. And I know that I've been given an awful lot of information that a lot of people don't have. And I know they don't have it simply because they won't ask for it; and they won't find it because they refuse to look. And maybe they refuse to look, because they don't have enough humility to admit that they don't know?

Then they turn around and say people like me are crazy and we couldn't possibly know; although we did dare to ask and do understand that any right answer we've gotten came strait from the Top. It's not my truth, it's Yours. And I know the same thing happened to You and I shouldn't feel badly about being persecuted; but…

 _And suddenly; my mind froze and all was quiet… on the western front…?_

Jesus looked at me and smiled empathetically, before He stood up, collected His things and held His hand out to me.

"Come." He motioned as He glanced over His shoulder at the restaurants behind us.

He took my hand as I half heartedly pushed myself up and we began to walk. I was only shuffling along behind Him, as He walked assuredly… almost proudly toward the nearest restaurant. He surveyed the joint a moment before He moved on to the next one. After a few paces around the atrium, we found ourselves standing at a mall directory sign. Jesus pulled me over next to Him and put a reassuring arm around my shoulder.

"So, I look at these in the morning." He smiled and pointed. "What do we eat; cheese cakes or olive gardens?"

"Well, I guess I want lasagna." I finally let out a bit of a chuckle, after standing there watching rotating food displays for a moment or two; I decided. "Let's go to The Olive Garden."


	51. Safe Spaces

**Safe Spaces**

The Olive Garden was just starting to get busy, when the hostess seated us at a small table in a corner booth, back between a nice picture window and… the emergency exit. _Now aint that an irony._ I chuckled to myself, as I sat looking over Jesus's head at the falling snow that gathered in sedimentary layers upon the glass pane.

I sat quietly while Jesus scanned the selections trying to figure out what was what. Although His speaking English was improving with every word uttered, He did an outstanding job butchering the names of the food items He was attempting to read off the menu. That was OK though, I couldn't pronounce half of them either.

After finally having decided that pictures spoke a more effective sales pitch than words: Jesus closed the menu and sat quietly a moment before folding His hands and praying. I only listened, since force of habit seemed to have reset the language button in His head back to Aramaic and I couldn't really understand much of what He was saying anyways.

When Jesus finished; a friendly older man who introduced himself as our waiter, approached and asked if we were interested in some wine? Jesus accepted a few samples, before apparently deciding He'd have better luck if left to His own devices. So after the waiter departed with our order; Jesus picked up the water tumbler, glanced at me, then the wine glass and grinned mischievously.

"You are not!" I shook my head as I covered the goblet with my hand, before I leaned over and whispered: "You know they're gonna charge You for Your own wine; don't You?"

"Shhh." He put His finger to His lips as He gingerly moved my hand and poured some water into the glass. I watched intently to see what would happen and; it…. remained water. He started to snicker as He pointed at me. "Got 'cha." He squealed.

 _I only sat and stared at Him… now not really sure what to think?_

"OK, OK. Uncle." I finally sighed as I labored not to snicker too loudly; since Jesus had already quietly amused Himself into a near incessant giggle.

I sat and watched Him for several minutes as I took a deep breath to calm my own…. yearnings?; before I launched a lighthearted investigation.

"You sure Ya didn't turn that into shots of Vodka?" I snickered as I leaned over, nearly looking up at Him before I snatched the wine glass from His hand and sampled its contents. Yes, it was… just plane water. I smiled, finally coming to the conclusion that, I guess Jesus had caught nothing more than a case of the sillies.

Another ten minutes passed and the waiter brought us our salads. Jesus calmed sufficiently to winnow through His greens, seeming to attempt to figure out if He could identify all the contents in the bowl. He sampled a few of the more difficult to identify items before opting for the salad dressing. I watched Him for another moment or two before I decided it was the right time to apologize…. again.

"Ehhh…" I sucked in a deep breath.

"No need." He looked right at me and innocently shrugged before I even got the words out. He smiled happily making Himself a bit more comfortable while repositioning His crossed legs under the table.

"You watchings, or doings cause me no harm. Is just reaction of nature." He said as He reached around the candle and handed me the parmesan cheese. "You read the verse?" He continued. "One make himself a eunuch to reign in the Kingdom of God. By the power of God that restrain him." He cracked a smile.

"Yeah…." I looked at Him a bit before my thoughts could formulate. "But I guess I always figured, You would be the last one who'd need restraining."

"God is Creator of life." Jesus stated before another giggle escaped. "Conceive a person by direct intervention of Holy Ghost; what is it you think you get?"

"Another entity that wants to create life?" I spilled out with an answer; half not thinking and half not really knowing.

"Eeee." Jesus squealed in more silliness. "You get this gold star."

I only sat and looked at Him dumbfounded, as my statement sunk into my own head. "Another entity that wants to create life?" I mumbled to myself. "So…. Is _**that**_ why You needed restraining?"

Jesus turned away and put His face in His hands. "I still do." He lent a confession I was only half paying attention to, before He took a deep breath, sat up and turned back toward me. I only gazed at Him in an odd mixture of confound and marvel.

"Only in this certain way." Jesus smiled happily as He broke the silence. "I already conceive in you new life…."

"Yeah." I mumbled almost impulsively, as I stretched out my arms and leaned toward Him.

"No Jesus." He giggled as He took hold of my hands. "Stay in you own space."

"Jesus, stay in you own space?" I mumbled as I cocked my head and flashed Him a puzzled look; still not fully grasping why He'd said that… to Himself?

"Yes." Jesus answered as He put His hands together, while mine were still between them and bowed His head. "Jesus guard you own heart."

"For out of it come the issues of life." I finished His sentence.

"Yes." Jesus looked up at me. "You understand." He nearly cried as He instinctively wrapped His arms around me. "No Jesus, stay in you own space." He flustered a bit as He backed away, took a deep breath, covered His face and started giggling.

"You're a fascinating…. entity; You know that." I made an offhanded observation.

Jesus glanced at me and humbly smiled. "Is no ceasing at the wonder of God's creation." He held His hands up, flipped them back and forth a few times, before setting them down on the table and gently started to giggle… again.

 _I sat for several long minutes._

"Is it… being raised from the dead that's gotten into You?" I wondered a'loud.

 _Jesus suddenly became very serious and quiet._

"Uh." He nearly gasped as He shook His head. "There no word I could find to even describe."

 _He sat still, obviously lost in His own thoughts as He tangled His fingers together and stretched sincerely devoted hands under the table between His knees; apparently praying for calm. He seemed almost to stop breathing._

"Well." I sucked in a sober breath once He opened His eyes and looked at me. "After hearing You…. yesterday morning; I suppose I could understand why."

 _Jesus didn't respond. He only became obviously… physically affected._

I watched as He squirmed, giggled, got hot and then started picking at His salad morsels, sticking His fingers in His mouth and sucking on them. He'd peer over at me periodically, to see if I was still watching; giggle again and go back to minding His salad.

I rested my chin in my hand and watched; absolutely fascinated and even dumbfounded at the sudden revelation that Yes, God Almighty was actually a sensual and even seductive entity. How does that fit into the same sentence with the word holy? I began to ponder, as I smiled at Jesus's innocence.

"What'cha thinking of?" I inquired.

"Goodness of my Father." Jesus whispered through the impediment of fingers still in His mouth. He started to giggle again, as He covered His face with His other hand in some apparent attempt to amend the social stigma that accompanies drooling in your own salad.

I tried not to laugh, as He snatched His napkin to dry His hands and face. He took a deep breath, politely folded the napkin and set it on the table with each hand now resting, utensils in grip; a fork in one and a spoon in the other.

"You gonna eat Your salad with a fork and a spoon?" I snickered.

"Leave me be." Jesus closed His eyes and started to laugh as He squirmed.

I wanted to reach out and hug Him, but I knew the best thing was just to leave Him alone. He'd recover from His sudden surge of fervid…. endocrine function, just fine without my assistance.

I let out a sigh of wonderment as my contemplations carried on through the logical thought process of a Creator driven to create things; when another revelation suddenly struck me.

"You want children; don't You?"

"Huh?" Jesus paused a moment and looked at me; seemingly not quite sure if that was a question… or an offer. He slowly nodded, while I myself suddenly being a tinge mortified at the revelation of the sound of my own… implication.

"Well, I mean… And that's why You needed to be contained, or restrained or what ever." I amended, trying to rescue my thoughts before they escaped me again.

"Uh huh." He nodded rather meekly.

"And the next part of that eunuch passage…." I began before Jesus completed my sentence. "They bring me children."

"Yes, they brought You children." I pointed a fork of recollection in the air.

"Yes, they bring me children." He repeated again before endeavoring to explain. "Here was I; this world we, three of Us together create. I just want to hold babies, and tell moms and dads they do right by wanting spiritual good for their children. And these… men. These men that sit and listen to me how long? And now you chase away the babies; My babies? Ooooh.. I was this mad!" Jesus's face scrunched up in remembrance of His intense displeasure.

I snickered as I made a mental note: don't take babies away from Jesus.

"But yes, they offer me children." Jesus continued as He held His arms wide open, as if to receive these recollected children. "And though some not 'get it'; my Father say, you want babies? I bring you babies." He paused a moment and let out a sigh, followed by a smile. "And I say thank You Father, You bring me babies." And then He started to giggle again.

"Hum.." I thought as I picked through my salad.

Our waiter soon returned with a tray full of food. He stood a moment, looked at the two of us before sliding the plates onto the table.

"OK. I be back." Jesus suddenly announced as He got up, turned and looked at me. "Save lasagna. I try this." He pointed before bursting into another round of giggles and scurrying off.

The waiter only looked at me and smiled. "Someone loves you." He commented as he collected empty plates and cups.

"Huh?" I only flashed him a peculiar expression.

"To be _**that**_ excited and keep his hands to himself." The waiter chuckled. "He really loves you." He winked as he picked up his tray and walked away.

"Yeah, He really does love me." I mumbled as I watched the waiter leave.

Jesus returned seeming a bit more calm and collected as He sat down and surveyed the spread before us. He sampled some soup, some fish and some lasagna before He paused a moment and looked at me.

"You understand, all goodness of God He give us is lawful to have, but not all burdens worth bearing."

"Yeah." I nodded, with vague recollection of the verse from the first book of Corinthians.

"And you know we stay in our space because… how you say this? Not doing would… throw _**biiiig**_ monkey wrench in the plan." Jesus laughed. "Though nothing frustrate the will of my Father, they still times these do not improve the lot in life." Jesus paused a moment before adding in post script. "This is why I never marry."

"Yes, I understand that." I quietly responded as I pondered a moment, before inadvertently offering the next question; _albite as more of a thought out loud than an intended query._ "But if You could; would You?"

"If I would, would I? Yes." Jesus corrected; actually answering my careless thought. "Is not can't; but would or would not. And if I would? I would do already!" Jesus started to laugh before stating in the affirmative. "And if not then; I would be now."

 _And if not then, You would be now…. His statement ran through my now blank mind._

"What? Wait a minute?" I stopped short, flashing Jesus another awe struck dumfounded glare. "If not then; You would be now….. You mean like?" I pointed between the two of us and then out the door. "Ehh… like go to Vagus?" I stopped to give that one another pause of confoundment. "But You know that's not what I meant; don't You?"

"Where else you get legal wedding so quick." Jesus laughed. "But I know you mean lottery ticket." He answered. "Yet for answer of: would I do already?" He continued. "Yes! I take you. This agreeable to me." Jesus nodded, _almost a little too enthusiastically._

 _I only sat staring at Him in utter shock._

"B..But why…. me?" I gasped almost in a panic.

"Why not you?" Jesus shrugged. "You love me. I love you."

"But what about everyone else?" I interrupted.

"And _**this!"**_ Jesus announced. "Exact reason why; answer is no!"

 _I still hadn't moved; trying to absorb the utter shock of what He just said._

"Uh…." I slowly sucked in a breath of only half veiled relief; realizing this was sort of another…. 'got'cha' moment. "Father, not my will but Your's be done." I haplessly commented.

"Yes!" Jesus threw His hands in the air before He leaned over and hugged me. "You understand this." He kissed the side of my face. "I love you."

I started to giggle too before I could even look at Him. Much of my own buried desires revealed; while Jesus Himself confesses to being very human? How confounding is that? I realized as the first thought that came to mind slipped out of mouth.

"You better hurry up and ascend." I smirked.

Jesus only smiled kindly. "I too await the day, when time is not and all us give affections without complication of; as you say… biology."

 _I sat looking at Him a minute._

"Like the angels in heaven, because marriage is for the children of this world." I amended. "And neither can we die any more."

"Yes." Jesus exclaimed in pure joy, as He hugged me again and muttered to Himself. "Jesus stay in you space."

We finished our dinners mostly in our own silent worlds of personal reflection; punctuated by occasional utterances of culinary delight that erupted from the depths of Jesus's soul. It was a great pleasure to watch His contagious joy (or maybe sugar / caffeine buzz - I wasn't sure)? One thing had been determined though; Jesus liked tiramisu and mocha lattes made with eggnog.


	52. Above Top Secret

**Above Top Secret**

'Jesus, stay in you space.' kept tripping through my head as we paid for our dinner and stepped back into the masses. It wasn't very late; maybe 7:30 and I wondered if we should do something else to calm our edgy emotions (and help facilitate the exodus of sugar from Jesus's system, as now He was thirsty, both looking for water and a restroom).

After borrowing the facilities of Nordstrom's and water from.. Fiji (really?); we headed back down another corridor for a simple looksie at the stores in this mall. Jesus seemed perplexed and even a bit baffled by the enormity of goods in this market place. Clothing, food, furniture, house wears; we could even buy a hot tub, an automobile and an RV - if we really wanted one! Or… even one of each! I snickered to myself.

Jesus stood in front of a window watching cool gadgets and little robots talk to people inside one of these science / geek shops that sells educational toys for kids of all ages. He seemed amused as the robots retrieved things the patrons told them to pick up.

"Interesting huh?" I sighed.

"My Father give you much knowledge." Jesus answered.

"And what do we do with it, besides build atomic bombs and crap that ends up in a land fill two years later." I muttered.

"Is thus need for new heavens and new earth." Jesus answered. "Yes, I see in comparison of times this earth to wear out."

"You mean we're not going to save it with enough Green Peace protests?" I smirked.

"Who tell you this?" Jesus looked inquisitively at me, with a hint of sarcastic flare.

"Oh I don't know?" I innocently shrugged. "CNN, NPR, CBS, NBC; pick one."

"Oh, fake news." Jesus chuckled.

"What?" I raised an eyebrow at Him.

"Home Alone 2. You see?" Jesus answered with an inquiry. "Is movie; I watch some today, when you shop."

"Yeah… I saw the first one?" I flashed Him a puzzled look. "What's that have to do with the news?"

"In movie; tall man with yellow hair, tell boy where is hotel lobby." Jesus answered before He turned to walk away. "About 20 years, this man be you nation's president; then you understand fake news."

"Huh?" I stared at Jesus. "Wait a minute, get back here." I hurried after Him. "Someone in Home Alone 2 is going to be the president of the United States 20ish years from now?"

"Yes." Jesus smirked as He walked.

"Who?"

"He build towers in New York City."

"Towers? You mean the World Trade Center?"

"No, terrorists blow that up."

"Terrorists?" I grabbed Jesus's arm. "Terrorists blow up the World Trade Center in New York City?"

"Yes, and this in Washington; you call Pentagon."

"Terrorists blow up the Pentagon?" I stared at Him with saucer eyes.

"Well, they put hole in it." Jesus shrugged nonchalantly. "Say airplane do this. Is no airplane." He waved the accusation away. "Fake news."

"Woah, woah, wait a minute!" I said as I turned Jesus around to face me. "You're saying terrorists blow up the World Trade Center and the Pentagon?"

"Yes, and start really…. loooong war." He answered. "No worry to you though. Your son they never draft."

"My son?"

"Yes, I give you baby; but no… directly." Jesus snickered. "No worries, you be good mom. And army never take boy with; as you call - epilepsy." He continued as He took hold of my shoulders and gave me a happy shake. "You keep with each other. I give you one called by my name." He smiled joyfully as He leaned over and gave me a hearty kiss, before He turned to walk away again.

"But the terrorists?" I ran after Him. "And the president from Home Alone?"

"OK. I give you hint." Jesus held His hands up. "President same name as your dad. Terrorists; they say Arabs, but no Arabs; at least not directly Arabs. This too fake news." He took hold of my elbows as I squeezed His arms. "Pentecostal Movement; I send them strong delusion that they should believe a lie. Scofield, Darby Daniel 11, Daniel 12; The Great Awakening. Do you want to play a game?"

"Those are my clues?" I flashed a perplexed scowl as Jesus turned to walk away again. "Is this stuff in the Bible?"

"No man named Donald in the Bible!" Jesus laughed. "No; the terrorists, war, World Trade Center. Great Awakening. Do you want to play a game? Those I give you freebies. Not in the Bible." He giggled.

"Yet" He amended. "Scofield, Darby; what is this they teach? What I say happened to the temple? When did this happen? What of the sacrifice? The Sacrifice is…. Me!" Jesus flashed a big silly grin as He announced Himself. "Millennium Kingdom; when I start reign? Answer: Ephesians 1." He smiled slyly and wagged His finger at me.

 _I stood and stared at Jesus a moment._

"What happened to the temple?" I began to ramble off answers as we continued walking. "It was destroyed in 70 AD. Who is the sacrifice? You are. When did the millennial reign start? The answer is in Ephesians 1. Scofield and Darby? Scofield's reference Bible teaches dispensationalism. The tongues movement; strong delusion that they should believe a lie? Everyone says You'll descend to the Mount of Olives and rule from Israel for a thousand years."

"Not on this earth!" Jesus laughed. "More fake news."

"Daniel 11, Daniel 12? The Great Awakening. Do you want to play a game?" I cocked my head and looked at Him.

"King, set his palace between the seas and glorious holy mountain." Jesus tossed out more clues. "He send away nations and one will not stand with him. Time of one who causes a great trial on earth; as since there was not a nation. Satan released at the end of the millennium, that he should deceive the nations. Two beasts in Revelation; buying and selling with the mark of the beast. Look at end of book of Daniel. Other beast has lambs horns, yet speaks like the dragon. My sheep hear my voice! Who is the man who's number is 666? Your clue to 666; in beginning of book of Ezra."

 _I stood and stared at Jesus, while His silique of cryptic quotes and questions logged through my conscience._

"You mean all those answers really are in the Bible?" I muttered, although more to myself.

"Who shall we teach doctrine. Line upon line, precept upon precept." Jesus answered as He turned around and shrugged an encouraging grin.

"Ask and you shall receive." I mumbled.

"Search and you shall find." He marked His point before He reached over and poked me. "Dig."

 _I stood and stared at Him…. some more._

"But…. The Great Awakening was a religious revival in the 18th century. This president named Donald? Is there another revival? Does he have something to do with the end of time?" I flashed Jesus a perplexed look.

"The son of man comes as a thief in the night. Not as they suspect." Jesus answered. "Who in this time, still looks for messiah? Great trouble since there was not a nation." Jesus flashed a suspicious scowl. "Which nation?" He posed an inquisitive question. "Prophecy or… self fulfilling prophecy?" Jesus nodded knowingly.

"Schofield, Darby. The Bolsheviks, the Czar, pogroms, 6 million Jews, news papers of World War One. Adolf Hitler, the Transfer Agreement, 6 million Jews…. _**again?"**_ Jesus paused flashing another inquisitive scowl. "Nothing is hidden that will not be made known. 120 years of fake news? This thing you call Internet. It is a gift. Use it. Dig."

"So this stuff is described in general as revelation _**about**_ the end of time; but not specific as to what to _**expect**_ at the end of time?" I posed another question. "Is the history stuff about the terrorists?"

"Yes." Jesus nodded. "But also the sense Judgement Day comes."

"Because the wrath of God is revealed from heaven." I popped out a thoughtless verse. "And You use sinful nations to punish other sinful nations."

"Yes." Jesus nodded in the affirmative. "You take military oath; defend America from all enemies…"

"foreign and…. domestic." I finished His sentence.

Jesus nods.

"So yes; we do this to ourselves." I mumbled.

"You government; what you say - complicit? Yes." Jesus answered.

"Us and our; alleged… _allies."_ I muttered some more, through my own attempted denial. "Just like that story told to congress about Kuwait City and the hospital incubators. There was so much, that I only realized when Desert storm was over; it was never true to begin with."

"More fake news." Jesus confirmed.

"You know…" I paused a moment as I looked thoughtfully at Him. "I know I've been given an awful lot of information." I let out a heavy sigh. "I knew all that about the war. I knew we were exposed to chemical and biological weapons. Crap we ourselves sold to Saddam." I paused another moment.

"But history or Scripture; things it seems to me, that most people never find? How is it that I know? I mean, there's nothing special about me. There's no reason I should know any of this." I shrugged haplessly. "Who am I, but some veteran who was at best; a marginal soldier? I'm not really good at much of anything; except maybe… making clothes and drawing pictures?" I flashed Jesus a perplexed look. "And I guess I can write; or at least my college professors tell me I can."

"Yet you search the Scripture, for in these you _**understand**_ you have eternal life." Jesus answered. "They testify of me; and you know this. Yet, like the Bereans who being more noble than these in Thessaloniki; because you searched to see these things are so. Here is why you know. It is true when you say; this is not magic. Yet is also true; God hide these things from the proud."

"So all these accusations people have thrown at me for years; are untrue." I stumbled over… _what I figured He was actually telling me?_

"Father give me understanding; give me wisdom. I want to know Jesus in the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his suffering. You pray this in the depth of you soul. God I want to know…. _**You!**_ I not pray for money, husband, or…. _**desperately**_ for PTSD or Gulf War Syndrome be gone. Better to enter the Kingdom mentally retarded in a wheelchair than never get there at all; you say! I want rather to understand _You_. _I want_ _ **YOU**_ _Jesus!"_ He laughed as He poked me. "I not want this world." He began to giggle as He put His hand over His face and leaned over in a whisper. "Well, you _get_ _ **me!"**_

Jesus giggled as He stood up and rather proudly folded His arms.

"In the pages of the book; you get me!" He affirmed as He went on to explain. "I be yours. You come to find deep secrets buried in Scripture. What is incarnation? What is atonement? Explain the Trinity. What it like to be Jesus?" He smiled happily.

"Why….?" He made His best attempt at an actor's plea; then snickered contentedly. "Is grand thing; give me joy." He giggled some more. "You say Paul was a smart guy. Paul only have this same… _I_ _ **need**_ _to_ _ **know….YOU!**_ _"_ Jesus made a silly face and shook His hands excitedly before erupting into happy laughter.

"Yeah, but Paul didn't have the issues I do." I muttered in cynical amusement.

"Yeah, but Paul have his own issues." Jesus countered. "You all have issues." He carelessly waved the comment away with a dismissive hand.

"Says the snot with no sin!" I exclaimed as I impulsively whacked Jesus on the arm. He only started laughing.

"But I have compassion on you." He giggled as He held His hands out.

"Yeah, yeah yeah. Tell it to the Father." I bantered back.

"I DO!" He exclaimed.

"Yeah, I know You do." I honestly stated. "I know You have more compassion on us than _**I**_ know that You have." I amended. "If that makes any sense?"

"Yes, you make sense to me." Jesus affirmed.

 _I stopped and stared at Him some more… more._

"Glad I make sense to someone." I finally sighed and shook my head. "Because I don't make sense to me half the time."

Jesus paused a minute before He cracked a smile and gave me a little encouraging sideways hug.

"I'll refrain myself from kissing You." I growled a smirk, before He looked at me, flashed a silly grin and let go.

"I have another question though?" I switched topics.

"What?" He asked as He turned and began walking again.

"Obviously You care about me…." I lent an observation. "But why?"

"Oh, the what is man that You are mindful of him and the son of man that You take care of him question." Jesus smiled. "I know this feeling too."

"But God had a reason to love You." I countered. "You obeyed. None of us did."

"Yet, why come to earth if what was I to accomplish; I never do?" Jesus posed a rhetorical question. "Do I decide - Ihh, no I don't do this?" Jesus continued. "I save myself is not worth human disappointment I feel I give the Father; despite He love me anyway." Jesus paused a moment to think.

"Jesus, you obey; in all righteousness I love you, for I am God and what else can I do but love the righteous? Justice not let Me hate you for frailty of this created world. Because you obedient; we can recreate a new heavens and earth and what all we want in them?" Jesus flashed an unpretentious smile.

"But Father this is not of Our most excellent glory. I tell HIM. No, I do this! I die. They crucify me." Jesus stated rather emphatically. "If I don't follow this our plan; there no greater reason to love me. If I be not exalted, neither is my Father! What does this prove? God can obey His own law? We have no need to prove this to Ourselves!" Jesus started to laugh.

"Well, I guess You wouldn't." I flashed Him a visage of confounded agreement.

"So no, I not be humiliated and ashamed. I set my face as flint." Jesus scowled before He cracked another smile. "Then… I die." He sucked in a deep breath. "I now be happy beyond ecstatic it is over." He dropped exhausted hands to His sides as He peered up into heaven. "Thank You Father!"

 _I stood and pondered Him a moment._

"Was it as bad as You thought it would be?"

"Every bit so." Jesus answered. "And all the more worse."

"But You must have known You'd succeed." I interrupted. "If You're the first born from the dead, You wouldn't be able to raise anyone else if You hadn't been the lamb slain from the foundations of the world."

"Knowing does not negate horror of experience." Jesus honestly confessed.

"Yeah, I guess I could see where that would be the case." I amended. "But I figured that knowing somewhere on the other side it would all work out in the end, would have given You some sort of comfort?"

"There is no comfort in this absolute absence of God." Jesus soberly… adjudicated.

I stopped another moment. _And I had nothing to say._

"Well." I sighed before I could finally mutter. "For what ever my meager gratitude is worth." I whispered, for I could feel the tears well up. "I'm glad I'll never know."

"Ooh." Jesus let out a little whimper as He wrapped His arms around me and gave me a squeeze before He let go and started wiping His face. "Jesus, no start crying." He mumbled to Himself. "At least no ugly cry…. here." He started to snicker as He glanced around and dried His tears.

"Yeah." I wiped my own face, as I too started to laugh. "We can go ugly cry later."


	53. Trinity to Infinity and beyond

**Trinity to Infinity…. and beyond**

I took Jesus's hand as we walked along; swinging His arm back and forth like an overly energetic child playing with mom.

"Jesus." I mumbled my next inquiry. "Am I the only believer who's got this…. problem?"

"You mean, this: Come here Jesus, let me hug and kiss you….. problem?" He chuckled. "No, you not."

"You mean like, other people…. err… _want_ You so bad?" I cautiously peered over at Him.

"Yes. I meet this before." He answered.

"And it doesn't bother You?" I looked strait at Him this time.

"From those my Father give me; I understand this." He shrugged empathetically.

"Because this is part of the way we are designed?" I muttered in my own consternation.

"To a certain way of nature; yes." Jesus nodded. "But more also, if you cleave to me in Spirit; for the girl who wonder these things, is not a jump to want of the flesh too. Others in history find this in themselves. Is not that unusual."

 _I had to think about that one a minute, before the next (at least to me) seemingly 'logical' question arose._

"Ever had…. ehh, guys who have this problem?"

"That not of certain way of nature." Jesus corrected. "But men who struggle with sodomy? Yes, I meet this too. Men come from?" Jesus paused to think. "How is it this word you use; paradigm? A different archetype; different model." He held up a finger of contemplation.

"In this life, is impossible to be severed from gender." He went on to explain. "You be and think based on this and is not just expectation of society. Is as you say; biology. To desire helpmate of opposite gender is nature. To lust just for its own ends, as you call it; gay or strait, is something gone astray in mind and heart."

"Yeah, that's true." I offered a side observation. "There's a broad every which way that leads to destruction in this society."

"In this world!" Jesus corrected again.

 _I only paused and nodded._

"But what about You?" I posed my next question. "Do You find the same want… I seem to…. got?"

"In this general way; yes." Jesus answered as He glanced over at me. "But we make choices of the Father's will and direction He give us. If I pick the wife I really wish, I have my own Eve; but what of two sinless parents raise sinless children." Jesus started to laugh. "What challenge in that?"

"Well…. I guess that would be too easy; wouldn't it?" I snickered. "But what about me? Do You think I'm like…. kind of gross, or something?"

Jesus chuckled again. "If I pick next best wife? Give me one I bought; but yes, there still be too great of challenge in this."

"Yeah…. more for her than You." I gaffed under my breath. "Don't think I've ever encountered another Christian who'd ever confess to wanting to have sex with You."

Jesus only stopped, turned and looked at me; then burst out… laughing? His attempts to restrain what ever it was He found so…. endearingly whimsical?; left tears streaming down His face. I only peered suspiciously at Him; not sure if this was funny, sad, exciting, overwhelming or….. _all of the above?_ When Jesus finally got a hold of Himself; He sucked in a deep breath and stood and looked at me for a moment.

"Of glory the abandon I have love of my Father would be grand gift to share." He giggled and then sighed. "You right though; that be too complicated to work."

 _I stood and looked at Him another long moment… trying to digest what He said._

"Can I ask…." I sucked in a hesitant breath, _since though it seemed obvious to me from my perspective; I still wanted to hear His answer._ "Why?"

"Is how to explain in perspective of eternity?" Jesus searched for words. "All complications aside with difficulty of Incarnation now have permanent presence through progeny; or…. additions to Trinity." Jesus chuckled.

"This here we are…" He held His hands out, pilling His fingers over His palms. "We are fragile. Dust. Flesh and blood can not inherit the Kingdom; nor can accomplish its purpose." Jesus shrugged. "I love that you love me so much." Jesus giggled a bit as He took hold of my hands. "Innocence of what you don't understand." He reassured me with a good natured shake. "I leave you love me from soul and spirit; even with struggle in body. I will not destroy you."

I stood and stared at Him for a long time. "Not sure what You mean by destroy me?" I whimpered. "Would…. that literally kill me?"

"No." Jesus shook His head. "I not harm you at all. Not of eternal wrath or actual act." He chuckled a bit. "Matter is, you probably be very happy. Jesus do again." He lent an innocent shrug. "You chase me all over. Come here don't leave me; and I would not be able." He smiled empathetically.

"But you not yet perfect and how this haunt the soul, all you mortal life." He sighed. "Even if the theology issue solved. And this I know you understand is lot of theology issue." Jesus flashed me a knowing wink and started nodding. I joined Him in our mutual head bob.

"Ehh…. Yeah, I do get that part of it." I grimaced in acquiescence.

"But also!" Jesus continued. "Is not common concern of mine of what people think of me; but _**that**_ would be." He pointed at me. "Not only of my Father, but also you. I love you more than to plague you by questions of why. Why I ask? Why he agree? What have I done? This is terrible. Even though I stay till you die and if there be no consequence on this other side of eternity. This choice would haunt you." Jesus straitened up and nodded again. "I say no to all who asked. Is just you, of these I meet are closest to really understanding why, because… you know; that Spirit."

 _I stood quietly a bit longer; still, sort of… head bobbing._

"So, you've had other offers?" I finally inquired.

"Yes." Jesus laughed as He began to stroll and I followed. "How many fathers come to me. Jesus, you have job; you want my daughter?"

I giggled too. "Were any of 'em pretty?" I quipped.

"Some, yes." Jesus answered. "But I learn quick; most pretty ones especially when dad say - Oh! _And let me tell you she a virgin!"_ Jesus shook His head. "Ehhh, no she probably not; but… I never tell them this."

I laughed while Jesus just haplessly shrugged.

"Where there any You ever considered?" I posed my next question.

"There were girls I feel sorrow for." Jesus sighed. "And I would have been best to them. But no; none I knew I could ever match with. This is when I started ask: Father, are You to make me an Eve? Is this Your plan?"

"He said no to that too though." I chuckled before offering an offhanded side comment. "My poor frustrated Son."

"Yes I frustrated; but not of that." Jesus began to laugh; but then happily shrugged. "I knew is no earthy glory, ever be greater than this space my Father already give me."

 _He paused, sucked in a deep breath of silent reflection and bowed His head._

He quietly giggled some more as He clenched His hands together in a momentary prayer, then folded His arms around Himself in a sort of hug, while He rocked back and forth on His heels a few times. He then put one hand over His face, as He turned a bit pink while leaning over to take another deep breath between giggles.

"No earthy glory greater than the space the Father gave You." I pondered aloud as I watched Jesus…. get all hot again.

"So _**that's**_ what's gotten into You!" I scrunched my face up in affirmation of the revelation that just hit me. I started to snicker as I sauntered over and peeked up at Him. "Your fleeting states of…. devotion;" I whispered as I snuck closer and started kissing Him. "were never about… me."

"No, they not!" Jesus flailed a bit as He turned away. "Stop, is make me want more affection." He gasped in laughter as He held a hand up to keep my distance.

"But I love You." I exclaimed as I threw my arms out and proceeded to chase Him across the corridor. "Come here. Let me hug and kiss You."

Jesus stopped and turned around when He found Himself caught between a store front wall and an emergency exit door.

"OK, OK." He gasped as He held His hands up. "I know, is that Spirit in you love me too; but I can not hug and kiss just the Holy Ghost."

"Sure Ya can! I'm just along for the ride." I burst out laughing as I threw my arms around Him in a bear hug and gave a big squeeze.

"OK, OK." Jesus interjected again as He stuck one hand up between the two of us and unceremoniously splatted it over my face. I started kissing His hand. "Father help me!" Jesus wailed.

Well at that point I'd totally lost it and literally fell on the floor in hysterical laughter. The next thing I knew I could hear Jesus speaking to another voice I didn't recognize.

"No, she not drunk. She silly."

I opened my eyes to see a security guard peering down at me.

"I'm sorry officer." I hurriedly tried to amend, as I got up and dusted myself off. "I'm OK. I'll behave now." I grinned, trying to hold in my laughter.

"Alright?" He growled. "If you two get too rowdy; we're going to ask you to leave the mall."

"I know." I held a hand up and sucked in a deep breath. "I'm.. calm now." I sighed as a giggle escaped.

The guard only glanced at Jesus and glared at me one last time before he walked away.

"Sorry." I squeaked to Jesus as I put a hand on His shoulder and rested my forehead on it.

"Well, I give you this." He sighed as He patted my arm. "One day with you much different adventure than three and a half years with 12 apostles."

I looked up at Jesus. "Is that good or bad?"

He peered tentatively back at me. "I admit to being captured by this affection." He confessed. "I want this hug and kiss too." He hesitantly sighed. "But I know; I start and 20 minute later…. Trinity become Infinity."

 _20 minutes later Trinity become Infinity. I glared pensively at Jesus until what He said actually sunk in._

"Errr…?" I flashed Him the: 'are You shittin me' scowl.

No. He shook His head.

"Really?" I raised an eyebrow.

He nodded soberly.

"Are You sure?" I grew saucer eyes.

He nodded again.

"Wow." I mouthed silently. "That's Omnipotence."

 _I stared at Him another moment. Jesus only had this most dead serious look on His face._

I sucked in a deep breath. "I believe You." I whispered.

"Is good trust the Father." Jesus mumbled a bit breathlessly. "By power of God also restrain; is the Holy Ghost."

"Well that's good." I smirked jokingly. "The ehh…. Holy Ghost; needs restraining."

"Eh… yeah; the Holy Ghost…" Jesus raised an eyebrow at me before He finally cracked a smile and gave me a shove.

We walked another lap or so around this mall. I still held Jesus's hand even though I knew the tender feelings that lived within Him. Various thoughts scurried through my mind and I couldn't help but feel like… Ya already… _knew_ me!

Jesus seemed happy, strolling along, almost proudly having humbled this hapless and rebellious soul that I was…. and I felt it; wholly possessed of, fully apprehended and intimately loved. I wasn't sure if I was joyful, feeling lost in this grand love, or just absolutely overwhelmed; but all I could picture was us back in the cabin sitting on the couch playing huggy kissy while Michael Card sang El Shaddi.

 _ **(Now isn't that awkward!)**_

 _I burst out laughing again. Jesus only peered suspiciously at me; shook His head, giggled a bit and kept walking._

I didn't know if He could actually sense what I felt or not. He'd only stop at various moments to look at things; or look at me and move on again. He was quiet and serious, but also calm and seemingly quite contented.

I thought about 'Trinity become Infinity' and how apparently birth control wasn't even on His radar. What a different paradigm than I live in. That thought took a while to sink in. Was that really a cultural thing or not? I pondered with an ironic gaff. God likes to create things and life is important to Him. If I'm going to do this; that's the goal.

Wow, I pondered some more. I didn't know why, but that thought was actually comforting. Why is it comforting to think I'd be dignified as a carrier of life? The question haunted me. Because maybe at that point I'd know, the intent wasn't just for the gratification of the experience. Not that every human looking to bear children has the noblest of intents. I knew that certainly wasn't the case. Yet in so many ways Jesus was a wholly different human being than anyone else.

And still, creating a family in the flesh would have been a lot easier than taking on sin. But for what ever reasons I didn't understand; apparently God's own glory and honor was more important to… the three of HIM than anything Jesus was left to endure. I don't understand that? I slowed as my attention drifted toward Jesus.

He paused and turned to me. "What?" He asked.

"The glory of God is more important to You than anything else." I answered. "Maybe this is a stupid question but; why?"

"Because He love me." Jesus answered without missing a beat.

"Because God is love." I stated the first thing that came to mind.

"Yes." Jesus nodded.

"And He shows forth the greatest of His attribute in this plan Ya 'all came up with."

Jesus broke into a happy giggle and nodded.

"And there'd be no greater way of showing forth that love than this plan."

Jesus giggled some more.

"Are You going to get all excited again?" I cocked my head and smiled at Him.

Uh… Maybe? Jesus innocently shrugged.

"Does that depend on what I say?" I giggled myself.

Jesus just shrugged again.

"So, If ya wanna talk…. 'clean'; to Jesus, start talking about God's love. That gets Him all happy." I snickered.

Jesus only responded. "I praise You for I am fearful and wonderfully made."

"How precious are Your thoughts to me; oh God! How great is the sum of them." I added a tag verse.

"Yeah!" Jesus giggled before getting amorously pink…. again!

"Wow, that actually works." I noted my observation in snickers to myself, before I let out a sigh and just watched Him another minute or two.

"The express image of holiness." I muttered the first thought that popped into my head. "That's actually the answer to my question."

"What?" Jesus inquired as He took a deep breath and endeavored to calm Himself.

"My question about holiness." I answered. "Do You have any idea how incredibly seductive You are?" I started to laugh. "Just not in a carnal sense. I never understood how something could be holy seducing; but I look at You and I get it now! Boy do I get it!"

Jesus soberly nodded. "Glory of His love seduce me constantly."

"And it's grand to get lost in, because God is holy."

Jesus meekly nodded.

"And it absolutely overwhelms You."

Jesus began to whine a bit as He nodded some more.

"And now that it's over and You've accomplished all that You set out to do; You are quite excitable because You are just beside Yourself in relief, joy, feeling loved and knowing Your Father is pleased. That is the most important thing to You. Isn't it?"

Jesus nodded eagerly as He instinctively reached out. When He leaned over to kiss me; I turned and kissed Him back. Jesus let go, flashed a bit of an unsure expression and put His hands over His face.

What just happened to me? He seemed a bit unsure, as He peered at me and then around.

"You are…." I searched vainly for an adjective.

"His thought above our thought and way above us." Jesus squeaked an a barely audible whisper.

"Absolutely beyond…. lovable?" I giggled out my previously unfinished sentence.

"Hold me up; oh God." Jesus whispered.

"And I shall be safe." I completed His sentence.

Jesus flailed a bit more as it didn't seem that He knew what to do with His emotions. He looked to be on the verge of tears. He leaned over with one hand covering His face as if trying now, not to hyperventilate.

"Oh, come here." I chuckled as I grabbed Him by the arm, dragged Him over and plopped Him in a chair. I sat in the chair next to Him and…. just waited.

Poor thing needs His prayer closet right now. I thought to myself as I resisted the impulse to loop my fingers through His hair. He sat quietly with His hand over His face thinking… praying…. ; crying?

"Are You OK?" I finally asked as I sucked in an unsure breath.

Jesus nodded as He too sucked in a deep breath.

"All of this life I live in… despised of men and believed smitten of God. My space HE give me." Jesus wiped His tears as He peered up. "YOU give me; Thank YOU." He giggled a bit. "I am safe there. I am loved. I can give and be anything."

 _He paused a moment as His eyes sunk back down to the floor and He looked over at me._

"Then I think of Peter and Andrew, James and John; and all of them." Jesus suddenly looked a bit sad. "I explain go in you prayer closet; pray in secret. Is a grad thing; but they only look at me with blank stares." Jesus paused another moment. "Is sad I see they don't understand. Father says they will later; but I not comprehend how they do not know?" Jesus peered at me and made a face; then answered His own question. "They separated by sin. I see this and think how is it you live this way? I don't understand what this is like." Jesus sat a moment staring at me.

"Then I meet people like you." He continued. "Those who have at least this bit of understanding. They know this glory. They know this love. Even if just in this bit. Is no more: Show us the Father! For they know and suddenly I am not alone." Jesus began to laugh tears. "And they love me! Not of some heal me, feed me, or political promise they think I will give them an earthly kingdom. How often I say my Kingdom is not of this world, yet only here do I meet those who know this."

"But You knew the pouring out of the Holy Ghost is what changed that." I cocked my head and looked at Jesus.

"Again though." Jesus answered. "To know and experience are different thing."

Jesus sat quietly a few moments.

"They love me. You love me." He continued. "Of times past I try to imagine this; yet what is man that… God, You are mindful of him? The blessing that you are caused to love me is beautiful." Jesus laughed a few more tears. "I am glad to do this. What further glory in the new world to come." Jesus eagerly clasped His hands together. "I'd like this new world now." He cried happily. "But I be patient. All is to grander glory."

Hum…. I sat pondering this a moment, before switching subjects.

"People?" I flashed Him a perplexed question before amending my thoughts. "I wondered about that?" I mumbled to myself. "You've run into other believers here?" I asked.

Jesus nodded.

"How many? Can You… like tell, walking through this mall?" I twirled my finger around and started pointing in random directions.

"Only if my Father tell me and the Spirit tell them." Jesus answered. "Is two I've met; and one, 'not yet'." He 'quoted' with a chuckle. "And one to come."

"Two You've met, one not yet and one to come." I pondered a moment before it suddenly dawned on me. "One of them was that rock wall guy; wasn't it?"

Jesus nodded.

"So that's why You climbed that wall!" I pointed enthusiastically at Him. "All I kept thinking is: Don't tempt the Lord thy God and there You are three stories in the air, hanging from a rope." I paused a moment. "But the guy on the ground was a believer and you trusted him…. with Your life."

Jesus nodded again before He amended. "I trust the Spirit who abide in him."

"So what did he say to You?" I flashed another question. "He seemed happy to see You."

"He ask: Jesus how are You here? Aren't You to come back in glory?" Jesus laughed. "I tell him YES!; I just passing through. Then he ask how I get here. I say: I don't know? The girl seem to think this is her dream." Jesus giggled some more. "He say: Well, don't wake her up. I'm glad to see You!"

 _I sat and thought about that a while._

"Who else have You met?" I finally asked.

"Boy in resort lodge who will come home in one year." Jesus answered. "He have bone cancer. His dad is 'one not yet'."

"And the kid did't beg You to heal him?"

"Nope." Jesus answered.

"There's real faith." I nodded soberly.

"Yep." Jesus smiled as He got up. "Thy Kingdom come; Thy will be done."

He gestured for me to follow Him. "Is time to find 'one to come'."


	54. One to come Home!

**One to come…. Home**

Is time to find one to come. Yeah, one to come. I giggled as I got up and followed Jesus.

As we walked, I finally began to calm down. I wondered what He was thinking and how in the world did He ever deal with all this? I didn't know. It boggled my mind and I wandered around sort of trailing Him, while I tried to remember every thing He'd said to me. I was absolutely floored that He didn't think I was disgusting; yet at the same time quite comforted to know His own excitement had absolutely nothing to do with me! It was a relief to know, I wasn't actually the temptation.

The glory of the love of the Father in His own space is what restrains Jesus. How cool is that: actually! I snickered happily as I imagined Him swaddled in this mantel of protection. Wrapped in the hands of God. I will attend to you and blow kisses from heaven, because I know you don't have the luxury of fulfilling your inclination to be fruitful and multiply in the flesh. So dear Jesus, you can lock yourself in your prayer closet and wail to ME to your hearts content.

I paused a moment when Jesus giggled.

"What" I wondered.

"He love me." Jesus answered.

"You know what I'm thinking?" I asked.

"No, I only sense you contemplation." He replied.

"You are very loved." I smiled.

"I know." Jesus whimpered a bit before He let out a little giggle and sucked back the tears.

Oh don't do that. My heart melted as I let out a pained sigh. Makes me just want to hug and kiss You again.

Jesus paused a moment and looked at me.

"Come." He said. "We still to find one to come."

"O.K." I sighed as I collected myself.

We headed back toward the atrium where a Starbucks coffee bar sat strategically among the turnabout of intersecting mall traffic.

"There." Jesus pointed as He headed for a man who was sitting quietly pushing buttons on a cell phone.

I followed Him up to the stranger.

"Toby." Jesus said.

The man looked up. His mouth dropped open as he sat staring at Jesus. "Is it really You?" He whispered as his phone slipped out of his hand on to the floor.

Jesus nodded and smiled as the stranger named Toby stumbled his way out of the chair to a standing position. He was thin and pale; a rather sickly looking fellow. I stood and observed a moment wondering if he had cancer? If that was the case; it didn't appear he was undergoing treatment, for he still had a full head of hair. Yet he had red scaly patches and brown bumps on his face. He put his hands up to his mouth as tears trickled from his eyes.

I bent down and retrieved his phone. "Here, you probably don't want to lose this." I grimaced as I handed it back to him. "Besides, it's…. beeping?"

"Oh." the man looked around a minute and then at his phone. "I was playing snake." He shrugged haplessly as he folded it up and stuck it in his bag. "The snake died."

"You thank me. I kill you snake." Jesus laughed.

"Yeah." The man nodded. "Crush the head of the serpent. Thank You." He sucked back a sob. "Zack said You were here." Toby wiped his face as he wept. "I didn't believe him and I almost didn't come. I didn't feel well."

"Yes, I know this." Jesus answered as He reached out to put a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Oh, don't touch me." Toby recoiled. "I'm contagious."

"Yes, I know this too." Jesus replied before He rested His hand on Toby's shoulder and Toby cried a bit more.

"I'm O.K. I'm O.K.; really I am." Toby waved his hands as he collected himself, while Jesus looked around a bit and reached toward a table to retrieve a couple of napkins. "Thank You." Toby tried to smile as he took the napkins and carefully dabbed his eyes. "These stupid MC lesions itch." He nervously laughed. "Doctor gave me a cream along with steroids." He sighed. "I'm so tired of steroids; but I guess it won't be long now." He sucked in a breath as he looked up at Jesus. A few more tears streamed down his face as he began to laugh. "I know! I'm so stupid." He giggled. "Hey, ahh…. You want a cup of coffee or something." He suddenly gestured toward the Starbucks.

"If you feel up to tea; I get you some." Jesus answered as He pointed toward the chair with the indicate that this poor sickly fellow should sit down. "This, is Katreen." He turned to me. "He is Toby. You stay while I figure how much this cost?" Jesus chuckled as He peered behind Him at the busy baristas filling orders. He turned back to me. "You want?" He pointed at Starbucks.

"Ehh?" I peered indecisively at the bar as I rummaged through my purse and pulled out a $20. "Here, I don't think they'll take Herod's shekels." I snickered as I handed it to Jesus.

"Is worth more than this." Jesus smirked as He waved the bill at me.

"You're probably right!" I laughed. "Get what ever You want. I'll go up when You come back."

"O.K." Jesus shrugged as He left the two of us there.

"So… you're Toby." I sucked in a breath as I took a seat next to this stranger.

The man nodded.

"He told me we were going to meet someone here." I made some small talk. "I guess that's you?"

"Yeah." Toby chuckled a bit as he picked up another napkin and dabbed his face.

"Are you OK?" I flashed an unsure frown.

"No, I'm actually not." Toby tried to laugh as he cried some more. "But that's OK; I don't have much longer." He paused. "Zack actually drove over to my apartment after work. Which is good, 'cause I was just sitting in there feeling sorry for myself." Toby squeezed out a laugh.

"He says to me. You'll never guess who I ran into in the mall at work today!" Toby sucked in a breath and started coughing. "Excuse me." He gasped as he turned around and took a couple of hits on an inhaler. "That's better." He sucked in another breath.

"And no, I didn't believe him." Toby laughed. "He said: Yeah, Jesus had this girl with Him. I said: What? He said: I don't know. I guess we all stuck in her dream. I told him: You're crazy. Shut up. But he brought me down here anyways. I guess it's true." Toby muttered as he gazed off in the direction of Starbucks, watching Jesus standing in line.

"So don't wake up." He turned back to me and chuckled weakly. "This is so much better than sitting in my apartment staring at the pharmacy on my kitchen table."

I let out a little chuckle too. "You said you were contagious?" I flashed Toby an inquisitive look. "What's wrong with you…. if you don't mind me asking?"

Toby sucked in a hesitant breath. "I have AIDS."

"Oh." I sat quietly for a moment.

"These bumps on my face…. are contagious." He amended. "That's why I told Him not to touch me."

"Hum." I sat for another long moment.

"Yeah, I know what you're thinking." Toby confessed. "Yes, I was gay and that's how I got HIV. Doesn't matter who knows now. Maybe I'll survive another week or two?" He dabbed his face again and started to laugh. "Sometimes we pay the consequences in this life."

 _We both sat for a while._

"No, actually." I interrupted his pondering as the tears escaped my own eyes. "I was thinking about the war. But you're right." I amended. "Sometimes we pay the consequences in this life."

Toby sat and looked at me a minute as I stared off in the direction of Starbucks, watching Jesus.

"You…. cleaved to Him didn't you?" He asked a question I was only half paying attention to.

"Huh?" I turned to him.

"The way you look at Him." Toby went on to explain. "I never really understood that when I was… in the lifestyle; you know." He gaffed with a wheeze or two before sucking in a deep breath. "But I'd see it all the time. Chicks lookin at guys and it used to…. really piss me off." Toby scowled as he too was watching Jesus collect cups into a cardboard tray. "I thought they were just weak." He continued. "Had a partner who used to call 'em breeders. Oh how we hated you." He paused a thoughtful moment. "But I was so mad and confused; I hated everybody."

"But you hated yourself more didn't you?" I posed a thoughtless rhetorical question.

"Yeah, I did." Toby confessed.

"I know." I confessed in return. "I did too."

Toby paused a moment. "But you never got to full blown Lessie though did you?"

"No." I shook my head.

"Because of Him." He pointed at Jesus, _who was now making His way toward us._

"Ehh, Yeah." I hesitantly confessed.

"I get all peppermints." Jesus commented as He set the tray with 3 cups down on the table, before excusing Himself to go find another restroom.

"He was good wasn't He?" Toby perked up a bit as he started to laugh, while I flashed a scowl in his direction and he watched Jesus disappear down an adjacent corridor. "No, I don't mean anything bad." He corrected himself in his raspy voice. "Really I don't. It took me years to learn how to surrender." He coughed a bit. "All that time I wasted, running after something that I knew was never going to fix what was really wrong inside." He paused another moment to catch his breath. "But I couldn't help myself. I had to have my fix; and with all the drugs and crap. I'm surprised I'm not dead already."

 _Toby sat for a bit._

"So how old were you when it happened?" He posed another question.

"Which…. it are you referring to?"

"The it that got you off the wrong road."

"18"

"Woah; the hell I could have avoided at 18." Toby paused a moment and shook his head; before he coughed again and cleared his throat. "All the years of my life the locusts had eaten." He looked at me. "You got any idea how lucky you are?"

"Honestly." I sucked in a breath, trying not to cry. "Not really."

"He stopped you dead in your tracks." Toby…. exhorted in comfort. "No matter what crazy things went on in your head; you were finally safe. Safe from a whole lot more suffering you _**could**_ have gone through." Toby gasped again before he held his tumored hands out before me and chuckled a bit. "Look at what you missed."

"Yeah, As if I didn't think the war was bad enough." I mumbled thoughtlessly as I looked at his hands.

"It's a whole other battlefield." Toby explained. "Of a very different type of war; one very few ever make it home from." He sucked in another breath and excused himself for a second hit on his inhaler. "You know why?" He continued. "Because there's no VA. There's no American Legion, Veterans of Foreign Wars. We are too busy jumping off of bridges. The faggots get what they deserve…. and in a lot of ways that's true."

 _Toby paused to think and catch his breath._

"You know, I never thought I'd be…. grateful for my own sin." He continued. "But it was always in my face. You're going to burn in hell. God's wrath abides on you. Yet, every word of it was true and I knew that. I always knew that. I never wanted to believe it; but I knew it."

 _Toby sat another moment contemplating his inhaler._

"Then one day I was wandering around Fisherman's Wharf in San Fran, watching the… prophets with their picket signs." He smirked weakly. "And it suddenly hit me. God, I know what my sin is. Do they know what their's is?" He paused to reflect. "So I did something I'd never do before and I walked up to one of them and asked 'em."

"What'd they say?" I peered hesitantly at Toby.

"They could't answer me." Toby replied. "They'd give me a whole bunch of theological jargon; a bunch of mumbo jumbo. Oh, we're all sinners! But not one of them could tell me specifically what they were convicted about." He paused another moment for a third puff. "Then I realized they didn't know. Here they all are screaming hell at me; and they aint got the foggiest clue what it means?" Toby started to chuckle before he coughed again and sat quiet another moment.

"Then I went from there and did the next craziest thing I'd never thought I'd do." He continued his story. "I went into an old used bookstore and bought a…. Bible." He chuckled. "Yeah, a Bible. Guy must have felt sorry for me because he just gave it to me." He laughed as he threw his hands in the air. "Then I was like; I gotta find out. I didn't know why; but I wanted to find out. I was condemned, but why?"

"So, what conclusion did you come to?" I inquired.

"God is holy." Toby simply answered with cough and a shrug. "It wasn't a split the sky open here comes the angels type of revelation. I just knew it was true. Then I was like. God, I gotta get out of this and I realized I'd run out of excuses to lie to myself any more." Toby paused another moment to catch his breath again.

"I didn't really understand at the time what was happening to me. All I knew was that something was different and I couldn't keep doing what I was doing." He continued. "So I left San Fran; made a bunch of people mad." He laughed. "But I moved back here. Stayed with my cousin for a while. My dad wouldn't talk to me. He was actually more comfortable with the gay kid, than the weirdo I'd suddenly become, walking around with a Bible. I guess I made his stripper girlfriend uncomfortable?"

"Well, I got family members who don't like me either." I sighed with a bit of a chuckle.

"Your enemies you will find under your own roof." Toby quoted. "It's OK though, in just a little bit; I'm going to see all kinds of family I never knew I had." He smiled.

"I know some day I will be free. The weight of sin shall be released." I started to quote Steve Camp.

"But for now He covers me." Toby completed my quote. "You a Steve Camp fan too?"

"Yeah, I like his music." I answered.

"And though the trials never end. I've learned to take them as my friend; for each day He covers me." Toby finished the verse. "One day, all these struggles we have will be gone and the questions won't matter any more."

 _I had to sit and think about that one a moment._

"Yeah, I guess that's true." I sighed in thoughtful contemplation. "Never thought about what I'd struggle with for the rest of my life and how even the burning questions, though they might never be answered; they will become irrelevant."

"Things we…. _**gotta know**_.. in this life; but are too afraid or embarrassed to ask." Toby chuckled as he sucked in another breath and looked at his inhaler again. "Speaking of asking. Here comes our opportunity!" He smiled as he pointed at Jesus, who was now returning with another fellow I recognized. It was the rock wall guy.

"There you are!" He pointed at Toby. "Look Who I found!" He held his hands out to Jesus.

"Hey Zack." Toby raised a pained wave. "Got a clue for ya bro." Toby retorted. "He wasn't the one who was lost!"

"Aren't you the smart a…" Zack laughed. "How you feelin?"

"Not well." Toby hesitantly confessed before he peered up at Jesus and suddenly asked. "Is this my night; cause I sure feel like it is?"

Jesus only nodded.

"How long will this take?" Toby raised an honest yet painful question.

"Before morning." Jesus answered.

"Dude." Zack glared at Toby before he sighed a sober question. "Where do you want to go?"

"I guess to the hospital." Toby gasped. "My back is killing me."

Jesus leaned over and took Toby's arm. "Stand up." He whispered.

"But… I don't want You to cure me." Toby hesitantly whispered back. "I'm ready to go."

"I know." Jesus answered. "But you no have to go in pain."

"Or in morphine?" Toby smiled a bit as he looked at Jesus and slowly stood up. "Will You walk me around the mall a bit?" Toby paused before he hesitantly asked. "I… I want to say Thank You."

Jesus smiled kindly as He picked up Toby's bag. "You want you tea?" He asked.

"No." Toby shook his head before pointing to Zack. "He can have it."

Zack plopped in the chair Toby had been occupying, while we sat staring at three cups of tea that hadn't been touched.

"You like peppermint?" I mumbled.

"Love peppermint." He replied as we each picked up a cup and our eyes drifted back toward Jesus and Toby, who'd managed to shuffle across the corridor headed for the Atrium. Jesus held Toby's elbow as they chatted.

It's time to find one to come. I thought about Jesus's words.

 _Yeah, one to come…. Home!_


	55. Peace!

**Peace!**

 _(And no more cheese cakes and lattes for Jesus)_

" _Hello 911, what's your emergency."_

" _My brother is died."_

" _Your brother has died?"_

" _Yes."_

" _He has no pulse and he's not breathing?"_

" _True."_

" _How long has he had no pulse and not been breathing?"_

" _I think maybe 10 minute. He very ill. He have this paper that say…. DNR."_

" _So your brother has a do not resuscitate order."_

" _Yes. I call you because we need help. We in what you say as mall. He is lay on long seat next to me. I cover him with his coat."_

" _So your brother has passed away and he is laying on a bench in a shopping mall? Which mall is it and where are you in the building?"_

" _We be in little hall next to J.C. Penny store in Valley View Mall."_

" _OK. The police and an ambulance are on their way."_

" _Thank you."_

Zack and I stood a bit of - afar off, behind Jesus as we watched the paramedics load Toby's body on to a gurney to transport it to where ever it is they take people who die in shopping malls. The police were still asking Jesus questions, while sifting through paperwork Toby had in his bag. Apparently he came prepared. He had a bunch of medical cards, an ID that identified him as an AIDS patient and a DNR. Zac seemed rather placid; but a bit weepy, as he was contented with the decision to drag his very ill friend all the way out here, so he could die in good company.

"He was afraid of dying alone. I'm glad he didn't." Zac mumbled in my direction.

"Well he couldn't have had better company; could he?" I commented.

"Nope." Zack replied dryly as he wiped his face.

"So how did you meet Toby." I inquired.

"Oh, maybe about 3 years ago. He came in here wanting to learn how to climb." Zack began to explain. "He said it was on his bucket list to go climb a real mountain." Zack chuckled. "When his dad died and he inherited some money. I said: Hey, I've been asked by a friend back home; where my folks live, to help with a climbing / outdoor class. If you want to ice pick it; why don't you come along? He said: Sure, I'd like that."

"So you went to your parents?" I asked.

"Yeah, had a lot of explaining to do; how to accommodate someone who's HIV positive, but my folks were cool with it. Mom had done a couple of stints in clinics in Africa; so she knew. Dad was a little more nervous with the young kids. I have a sister who tends to eat other people's food." Zack chuckled a bit. "She's got Down's Syndrome." He explained. "They're used to taking in strays though." He laughed. "After all, they adopted me."

"Yeah, you'd told me that. Where do they live." I inquired.

"New Hampshire." He answered.

"Hey! I live in New York." I chuckled.

"Well, if you ever want to come to a climbing school put on by Eastern Mountain Sports." Zack laughed. "Let me know; I'll hook ya up!"

"Sounds like fun." I chortled. "So long as we aint using ladders to transverse mile deep cracks in the ice like in the Himalayas."

"Hey, I know my fair share about climbing; but I don't know if I'd even have the _**guts,**_ to tackle Everest?" Zack shook his head. "That takes a lot of training, a lot of preparation and a lot of patients to get through all the red tape. You got our State Department and then you got Nepal!" He started to laugh. "Which is like the military regulations of area 51, mixed with the disorganization of Soviet bureaucracy and the drug cartels of Columbia. Talk about nightmares."

"Yeah, I can imagine." I chuckled. "I watched a documentary on it and that's when I decided…. Ehh - NO." I paused a moment. "So did Toby learn to climb?"

"Oh yeah." Zack recollected. "As much as he was able; but of course being sick, he got tired fast." Zack paused a moment. "I had to take him over to his own spot, for the head instructor was a bit edgy about other students finding out what he had. He was afraid they'd freak out." He sucked in a breath. "So, he was labeled 'private lesson' and we never told anybody." Zack chuckled a bit. "It worked out for him though. When the camp was done, we took my sister and…. other brother from other mothers." He smirked. "And rode around to take in some trails. We ended up at Kaaterskill Falls in the Catskills. It was a little tough, but Nikita, Sebastian and I got Toby up the falls."

"Nikita and Sebastian?" I looked at Zack. "So are all the kids in your family adopted?"

"Almost." Zack answered. "We tend to turn a lot of heads." He laughed. "A Chinese girl, a Russian girl, an Indian boy and me; all with African American parents. Well, sort of… my mom is actually part Arab too."

"You are a regular UN!" I laughed.

"No we're not." Zack countered. "Commies. That's what my dad says. The UN's a bunch of commies." He laughed. "After how many years in Marine Corps security? He got out and decided he still liked chasing bad guys; so he became a cop." Zack sucked in a breath and shook his head. "Actually got offered a job in the Bureau; but he knew the supervisor above the boss he'd have and that the guy was a creep. So he took a beat job because it was the only opening and told the Sheriff he really wanted to investigate murders." Zack smiled proudly. "So, five years later; now he's a criminal investigator."

"That's cool." I smiled too. "Well, speaking of cops." I pointed toward Jesus. "I think they finally run out of questions."

"Wonder what they asked Him?" Zack pondered. "That was an awfully long interview."

"I don't know." I shrugged, as Jesus came walking toward us.

He stood and looked at the two of us and then shrugged. "Theology question." He quipped.

We only looked at each other and then at Him. "Here we're wondering what's taking so long and the cops are asking Him theology questions?" Zack raised an eye brow in my direction, before we peered back at Jesus; who only started laughing.

"Merry Christmas." He quipped again.

We too started to snicker as He reached up and put His arms around us in sort of a 'group hug'.

"Love you guys." Jesus nearly cried. "Well done, you care for Toby." He smiled at Zack as He leaned over and kissed the side of his face and then slapped him on the back. "Now let us go praise Father for His care." Jesus smiled as He gave us both one last shake, let go and walked between us. "Is Christmas; mall open late and I go walk rope maze." He giggled as He turned around and motioned for us to follow.

Much of the rest of our evening was spent busy playing games, eating cheese cake, listening to music groups perform carols, and trying to decide if we really wanted to watch crazy humans blow up aliens in IMAX? Independence Day - any one?

We stood pondering, while Jesus walked around looking at movie adds. Admittedly we were also trying to reconcile the awkwardness of getting 'killed' by Jesus Christ in laser tag, just moments before. Needless to say though, we had some rather skilled players in our game; _who ended up ambushing Him._ Life is often stranger than art and imitates fiction. I giggled to myself; and of all things, they were from a local youth group. Odd it was, as only one actually recognized Him? Of course the joke was always about not waking me up; or this dream might end?

We closed our evening out listening to a community orchestra and choir perform selections from Handel's Messiah. Which I suppose was a bit more edifying that watching aliens explode in 3D. Jesus seemed quite happy though, as we sat in the back row and He grabbed each of our one hands and pretended to direct the orchestra with them.

You are quite the bit of silliness aren't You? We both giggled at Him.

Our evening ended 10 minutes before closing, as Zack hugged Jesus and told Him how happy he will be: "When You return for real."

We endured a little: How real are You / you - really?; banter as we bundled up to confront the Colorado cold, on the way to our cars. I was feeling quite contented when I got inside to start 'er up; while Jesus entertained Himself with more humor of throwing snow in hapless directions.

I sat thinking a bit, when Jesus finally got in and slammed the door.

"Judea, is clearly not Judea." He shuttered.

"Yeah, I guess not." I snickered. "I'm glad we found Toby though." I mumbled, _although sort of to myself._ "He made me think of the messes I really could have gotten into."

"As if war was not bad enough." Jesus replied.

"Yeah." I sat and looked at Him a minute, before I stepped on the clutch and punched the stick in reverse.

We headed back to the cabin pretty much in silence, as I tried to digest everything that happened tonight. Here I guess I'd never thought, that absorbed in my own selfish struggles, someone would die nearly right in front of me? We suspected something was up when we saw the flashing lights and a couple of cops walked in. We followed them and the ambulance team down the hall and around the corner. And sure enough; it was Toby.

Yet…. how many someones die every night? I mulled over in my head. Every second of every day; and I never take notice. Odd this world is? I sighed as we pulled into a gas station and I thought again. God, how did You ever deal with all of this?

I was shortly thereafter amused again, as curiosity got the best of Jesus and He decided He just had to know how gas pumps worked. He asked questions, poked at buttons and made funny faces at the smell of the fuel; before scurrying off into the convenience store for another trip to the restroom.

I wasn't sure if it was really how much He had to go, how sick He was from the fumes, or just wanting to see the inside of the store. My sister would do similar when we were younger. Every time mom and dad would take us all out to dinner; with out fail, she'd have to go to the bathroom before we left. (Even if she'd been in it 2 or 3 times already.) Dad had come to the conclusion that Jean just had a fascination for bathroom decor.

Jesus returned shortly with another shutter for the cold, as He hopped with haste into my passenger seat.

"Is clearly not Judea!" He shivered as He huddled close to the heat vent.

I looked at Him a minute before I cranked the dials and blasted Him with hot air.

"Whhaaaa!" He exclaimed with a bit of giddy excitement, tempered by surprise; before He turned and stared in at me in all seriousness. "Is like bathroom whoosh; and with no warn me." He shook his head very soberly.

"Ohhhh!" I started to laugh. "You fell victim to a super flusher; didn't Ya?"

"Why you not warn me?" Jesus blurted out sounding a bit exasperated. "I yell Father, what is this? And jump off seat before it swallow me!"

"Well apparently it didn't git Ya; because You're still here." I giggled.

"Except I mess me." Jesus scowled.

"Really?" I grimaced trying not to smirk. "Well, Touché!" I pointed at Him. "Now we're two for on the toilets!"

"Well maybe you embarrassed of soldiers." Jesus muttered as He shot me a look. "But you 20th century Rome is dangerous."

We continued on the next few miles, in a semblance of sober silliness, as I could smell…. that poor Jesus wasn't feeling well. Too much modern food and we found the need to make two more stops before hitting a grocery store for something He could comfortably eat.

Poor thing. I grimaced a bit as He found me once again, upon exiting the restroom and made a bee line for the herbs on the other side of the cheese display. He returned with a round of various roots. Needless to say, I soon realized what fresh turmeric looked like. He'd gathered up things that seemed at least vaguely familiar to Him and in the very least; I was happy to see that He looked as if He even felt better.

This grocery store was rather sizable and…. our apparently being in a local, oft assailed by tourists; they even had a spattering of organic food selections. Jesus took a wander though the produce section before excitedly scurrying back to my cart with a pomegranate, an assortment of nuts and a couple of fist fulls of figs.

"Are You hungry?" I chuckled a bit.

"Yes." He confessed. "Hours with Charmin; my body now empty."

"And Your butt probably hurts too; right?" I muttered out my rather blunt question.

"Ehh…" Jesus hesitantly nodded.

"Come here." I motioned as He followed me toward the baby isle and I tossed a tube of Destine into the cart. Jesus just flashed me a weary scowl. "You won't get diaper rash." I pointed to the assortment of smiling baby images that lined the shelves. "It works; believe me."

Jesus didn't say anything else, as we wandered through a few isles and finally to the check out. He was too busy looking around. "Hum?" He'd mumble every so often as we passed some interesting object. He seemed a bit overwhelmed by the isles and isles of boxes and bags and bins of food to feed anything from parakeets to elderly people with no teeth. There were even large tubes of what ever it is you'd give to sick farm animals; all stashed in with the pet treats.

Despite all the excitement of the unfamiliar. We were quite exhausted by the time we got back to the car. The last few miles were better, as Jesus was happily gnawing on what ever assortment of roots He's picked out.

"I comfortable now." He sighed contentedly as we rolled into the resort's parking lot. "But is no more cheese cakes and lattes for Jesus." He giggled.


	56. Lost in Translation

**Lost in Translation?**

We burst into the cabin from the encroaching snow storm; both seeming happy to be out of the weather. I, for the lack of fear of the driving conditions and Jesus for the comfort of His own lack of acclimation to the climate. Poor thing; although He didn't complain about it, I could tell He was cold most of the time.

We took our coats and boots off and stashed our grocery store goodies; when Jesus pointed to the cabin bedroom.

"I go pray." He indicated with a shy smile.

OK. I shrugged, as He scurried off and I heard the door lock click.

 _Jesus took a few steps into the room and fell on His face. Thank You Father, I'm back in the safety of just the… three of Us. Jesus giggled as He sat up on His knees. This century is interesting to say the least. But as it was, is, or will be a millennia ago, or even next year; there is nothing new under the sun. This nation they call the United States is very much just another Roman Empire with a technological twist. Not exactly the same of course; yet just exactly the same, all at the same time. Jesus smirked._

' _Hark the herald angels sing, glory to the new born King….' Jesus giggled as He thought of the choruses of music both sung by man and prerecorded devices alike. Despite the secular aspects of the holiday season; (and old men running around in red and white fur suits) there are still those who carried Him around in their hearts and that was a joyful thing._

 _Jesus giggled as He turned around and sat on the floor. Strait across from Him was a mirror on the back of the door and He sat looking at His own reflection a moment or two, before He got up on His hands and knees and crawled toward it. He'd never seen Himself with such clarity as was available in this century; He smiled happily as He climbed to His feet._

 _The 39 year old face reflecting back at Him, fascinated Him. He was happy to see this resurrected body, as He held His hands out to the mirror and then suddenly began to peel off layers of clothing. He kicked the sox and athletic pants across the room and stood in front of the mirror just as naked as He'd emerged from the tomb a day earlier; (or at least a day earlier according to this time line). Naked I came from my mother's womb and naked I shall return. The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of Lord. Jesus giggled as He raised His arms into the air and then looked up._

 _Here I am; ready to return to You when You want me!_

 _Jesus attention returned back toward His reflection as He adjusted a bit to see the opening in His side. He squirmed around and giggled as He stuck His fingers inside His body. It felt weird and Jesus knew it was going to take some time and exploration to get acquainted with this now permanently altered flesh of His. It was wonderful though, Jesus sighed as He leaned against the cold mirror._

" _WOO!" That_ _ **is**_ _cold! Jesus quickly stepped back as He wasn't particularly thinking about what of His anatomy was to come in contact with this mirror. He looked down. Yeah, He sighed, both a bit amused as well as bewildered. He noted this particular circumstance to be a frequent occurrence since coming back from the dead. He knew it had to do with being renewed to a grand healing upon being raised to life; and He didn't particularly mind the warm feelings, especially if able to be adequately concealed by layers of clothing when out in public. Just an interesting… 'side effect'. He noted._

 _Well, that will remedy itself one way or another eventually. Jesus shrugged as He decided to ignore… Him's-self and look at His back. He remembered the intense heat that surged up and down His spine as these wounds miraculously closed up around themselves and the angels' jubilation at watching this happen, while they helped peel the shroud off Him._

 _That was unlike any experience He'd ever had in His life and Jesus wondered what being transformed from glory to Glory would be like. Just the thought of it did things to Him that He couldn't explain and didn't want to leave. Jesus let out a squeal as He collapsed onto the floor. He crawled over to the animal skin rug and flopped down on it, face up with His arms outstretched and knees bent, staring mesmerized at the ceiling crying Thank You, Thank You, Thank YOU! in His soul._

 _Over about the next 10 minutes, His body spontaneously did what He'd expected it would, while He just lay praying to the Father about random things. Jesus smiled and giggled, wrapped His arms about Himself and rolled around on this fur a bit; simply happy to be alive again. He thought of the crucifixion and being forsaken and then thought of standing before His Father's throne in heaven to open the seals. It was all so vividly clear to Him, every detail firmly burned into His personhood, just like the bones, muscles and blood that made up the body that now lay here crying, giggling and groaning in words Jesus could not find to utter._

 _He pulled His legs up to His chest, wrapped His arms behind His knees and clasped His hands together as various muscles in His back and legs flexed and twitched, while His fingers and toes curled. He starred intently into the vast space before Him as warm surges of a profoundly comforting presence raced up His spine, down His limbs and He began to sweat. I remember this from being raised! Jesus half wailed and half roared with a grand internal laughter, as He recollected trying to roll off the slab; but couldn't quite stand up and landed in the one angel's arms. It was a grand silly thing to be nearly 40 years old, carried about like a child in the arms of a glowing radiance; having exploded forth from the darkness of death with explicable power and majesty. He felt as if He were to burst right through this veil of flesh._

 _Jesus sucked in a deep breath and laughed until tears ran down His face._

 _It was glorious, oh so glorious and Jesus often longed for the moments that He could run to His Father, taking a leap of reckless abandon crying "catch me!" into the arms of this Glory. There was nothing in this life He longed for more than to be held and tightly swaddled in that protective Love. It pursued Him and He pursued It; over and over again until He rested happily contented, dreaming of awesome eternity in glorious peace._

 _ **Meanwhile, back in another word:**_

Well, after these enigmatic and revealing conversations this evening; (and Jesus now…. securely locked in the cabin's bedroom) I tried not to think too hard about the impending question seemingly forever circulating in my brain. Of the burning questions we feel we must know? Toby's statement haunted me. If my dreams, fantasies or… whatever, were to be 'true to real life' what would that actually be…. like? I fought and fretted not to think of.

I wasn't sure I wanted to know, even though the question kept bugging me. I knew and understood on one level, that it was rather pointless to ponder a scenario that I knew was out of the realm of possibility; yet I still had this one question. One question I might actually be able to find the answer to, if I dug through the Scripture; but was too afraid and/or embarrassed to ask Jesus directly. Where there… parts of me; that He could care less one way or the other about?

Well, I knew from the private world between my own two ears, that much of what had gone on in my imagination was not anything I had any specific phobia or dislike for. There was nothing in my soul that found the thought of…. engaging the entire act… frightening; or even undesirable. It wasn't even too difficult to imagine _(even if I labored not to spend too many minutes there)._ I still longed for that profound closeness, as well as the ability to totally surrender. For whatever that should look like in my real world spiritual walk; I yearned for it desperately.

I knew there was a symbolism in all this, which was real and heart felt. I remember on many occasions asking 'What does this mean. Explain to me what this means?' Only to cry 'Thank You' in the end. But maybe that _**was**_ the point? I started to contemplate. There is nothing more to any moment of our lives than the simple gratitude of being swept up in joy we can't quite grasp and don't really understand? If all we can howl is thanks, maybe no other reasons really matter?

Despite all this though, there was still a puzzle piece missing. If the point of engagement of… _the whole system_ , was connected to the innate desire / command to create life; beyond feeding the young, why does _**that**_ part of the system hold such interest for the opposite gender? That I couldn't figure out and if Jesus was functioning of the same inclination _(which seemed reasonable to conclude)_ ; than why?

Now I'd held hungry infants who just instinctively believed that if the breast was there, it must have milk in it; yet I still could not understand why anyone over 3 years old would still find that… fascinating? But maybe it's just another thing, sort of like pregnant women's expanding abdomens; an innate fascination with the fact that there's actually a life form in there?

Well, if that's the case? I guess I could reason this wasn't so… gross; but I really had a problem with feeling like someone else was looking at me as the sum of a bunch of parts that only existed for their satisfaction; beyond the real function these 'parts' _(connected to me as a whole person)_ were really designed for. But for what ever intention _that_ served in God's design to create life; there was no denying all these… parts; were connected.

So I picked up my Bible and opened to these seemingly random descriptions in the Song of Solomon:

 _ **Behold, thou art fair, my love; behold, thou art fair; thou hast doves' eyes within thy locks: thy hair is as a flock of goats, that appear from mount Gilead.**_

 _ **Thy teeth are like a flock of sheep that are even shorn, which came up from the washing; whereof every one bear twins, and none is barren among them.**_

 _ **Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy speech is comely: thy temples are like a piece of a pomegranate within thy locks.**_

 _ **Thy neck is like the tower of David builded for an armory, whereon there hang a thousand bucklers, all shields of mighty men.**_

 _ **Thy two breasts are like two young roes that are twins, which feed among the lilies.**_

 _ **Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh, and to the hill of frankincense.**_

 _ **Thou art all fair, my love; there is no spot in thee.**_

Eyes like doves; well that's nice. Hair like goats; soft goats, OK.

Teeth like…. washed, shaved sheep… that have twins;… what?

Neck like a tower built for an armory…. to hang shields on..; um…?

Breasts like… twin… young…. dear; (ehhh?)… which feed among… lilies. ? …. ?

Now either this means something culturally that has long since been lost in translation; has not been quite understandably translated for the culture of a modern English speaking audience; Solomon had an interesting predilection for odd comparisons; or by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, Solomon penned something really random, in which the joke is on the rest of humanity to try and figure out what this actually means?

Maybe I should wake Jesus up and ask Him? It'd be interesting to see what He says!

Well, it wasn't too long of me sitting staring blankly at the pages of my Bible before Jesus scurried out of the bedroom clad in His first century 'underwear'; to it's neighbor the bathroom. The door clicked shut and the bathtub began to fill; when almost an hour later, He emerged reassembled to His first century tunic that hung like a simple linen nightgown and 20th century wool knee socks. _Apparently somewhere in this journey; Jesus found my skiing garb._ I snickered at Him standing in beige robe and purple stockings.

"I got a question for You." I suddenly blurted out as my attention returned to the book in my lap; _that I'd been staring at painfully trying to decipher._ "What does this mean?"

Jesus strolled over rubbing a towel through His hair and peered at the page I was pointing to. He gestured at the other books on the coffee table, before I realized the interlinear Bible would probably be a better choice. I quickly flipped through some pages before I handed it to Him and pointed to the passage in question.

"Oh." Jesus answered as He read the passage and placed the Bible on the back of the couch. "Consider this is one thing." He went on to explain. "The congregation, my body. Then think big picture. What are two sheep, doves, goats, deer, a tower prepared for battle? You know these symbols."

"Yeah. OK." I pondered a moment in thoughtless comment. "That does make some sense. So I guess Solomon really didn't just have weird fetiches."

"No." Jesus laughed as He closed the Bible. "Is not abomination of thought."

"So…. speaking of thought? Did You ever…. err.. think about this stuff?" I asked another thoughtless, yet earnest question as I stared at my English translation.

"You mean as what this mean; or Jesus, you want to do this?" He countered my question.

"Ehh…. both?" I flashed Him a weary look, trying not to sound to crass.

Jesus only laughed with an innocent shrug. "Yes." He answered. "Both."

"But how?" I blurted out again. "How do You have this same…."

"Is not evil intent." He quickly amended my question as He hurried around the end of the couch to sit down. "You see through a glass dimly, into a world few dare to ask."

"What do you mean dare to ask?" I flashed in apprehensive angst.

"People assume so much; is their life missed in mine." Jesus attempted to explain. "Is rare some who ask these questions, because so many assume no."

"They assume this stuff doesn't affect You?"

"Uh huh?" Jesus nodded.

"Well, I made that assumption myself." I mumbled to my own ignorance. "So many times I wished I could just throw my arms around You and hug and kiss You; always assuming You'd either not care, or even be mad at me. And here I never imagined; You'd want to…. return the favor…"

Jesus only started to laugh. "Well, is one complication of incarnate and indwell on earth at the same time. Father said: Yes Jesus, you decide ascend first. This makes social life of all involved easier."

 _I sat and stared at Him a moment. Gotta let that one sink in. I concluded._

"So how did this happen then?" I flashed Jesus a perplexed inquiry as I gestured between the obvious presence of the both of us. "Why did this happen; or is this just another one of my stupid dreams?"

"Well, I say this is joyful dream." Jesus shrugged with a smile. "I like dreaming. They help me figure life."

 _I stared at Him a while more._

"Yeah but I doubt you have my kind of dreams." I muttered thoughtlessly.

"Is same process." Jesus answered. "Does same thing. Is help to make sense of life. Dreams that God send us or not. Is made to help process what this or that mean; as is what you call psychology says of it."

 _I sat and starred at Him another real long minute; when it suddenly dawned on me, that I supposed if I could dream about something I'd never experienced, so could He?_

 _I had to think about_ _ **that**_ _one another… good long minute. I realized as I flashed Jesus another peculiar expression of astonishment._

 _You are so precious. I want to crawl into Your lap and…. More careless meanderings floated by._

Jesus giggled a bit before He leaned over, gave me a careful squeeze; then started to sniffle. He sat up and wiped His face with quiet laughter, as He mumbled in Aramaic, seemingly something about His own naked affections.

 _Exposed and vulnerable; yes, I want to get close to You. I want to wrap my very existence around You!_

Jesus laughed at Himself as He tended to His drippy eyes. He seemed actually amused at His own inability to control the water works. Every time He looked at me, He'd cry some more; although His tears seemed to be more of a mixture of gratitude and relief, than they were sadness over my own…. what ever is wrong with me?

"You get overwhelmed a lot; don't You?" I popped out a seemingly careless question. "But not in a bad way." I paused to give it some thought. "You get lost in…"

"Profound glory." Jesus finished my sentence. "Yes, this tends to like me." He started to laugh.

"Is _**that**_ why I want to hug and kiss You?" I blurted out.

"Yes." Jesus cried some more through His laughter. "This tends to like you too." He added.

"Because You first loved us." I finished His sentence this time.

"Yes!" Jesus blurted in more laughter, through the tears as He reached out and squeezed me again.

"OK, OK. I do this. Stay in you space Jesus." He mumbled to Himself as He let go and sat quietly, hands folded and sucked in one deep breath. "If I could hug and kiss you too without ending where we need not go; I do this, but as it is, you call…" Jesus shook His head and let out a humored sigh. "Biology no work that way."

"No, I guess it doesn't." I sat staring at Him for a good long time as He giggled and cried, got warm, got excited and giggled and cried some more.

"Are You frustrated?" I asked Him.

"No." He honestly answered before He looked up at me. "Is far greater glory on the other side." He cried some more. "Much so grander and everlasting than…. Father Thank You."

 _I sat and stared at Him a while longer._

"So that's how He restrains you; by giving You something far greater than You could ever get in the here and now."

Jesus nodded as He innocently tangled His fingers together and held tightly to His own hands. "Even before this." He looked down at His wounds as He turned His palms out gesturing at the holes. "I have far grander Thank You Father than you ever imagine." He shrugged happily and began to quietly giggle to Himself.

"Well, I suppose that would be true, if there's no sin to get hung up over." I mumbled another thoughtless revelation.

Jesus only nodded.

 _I sat for a real long time thinking, pondering and wondering why it was? I who now knew these things about Him, when no one else I knew seemed to understand?_

"Because you ask." I looked up when I heard Jesus speak.

"Yeah, I did." I acknowledged with a bit of a frown. "Even though I'm not sure I was ready to know?"

"Is OK." Jesus shrugged. "You ready enough, or the Spirit not answer you."

 _I sat and stared at Him another moment._

"You know though, I've been asking this question for…. 10 years?" I sighed. "I spent so much time wondering what's wrong with me, never realizing there was more, maybe….. not so wrong; than I ever knew?" I peered back at Jesus.

"I… I..I love You." I choked out. "It's awfully hard to say because I don't feel like I give You the respect I should. It's like my emotions are just crazy weird all over the place… most of the time and…. that's why I'm afraid of what I actually might do?" I paused a moment. "I.. I, think?"

"Issues of life stored up in a heart, are not always easy to sort." Jesus gave an honest shrug.

"How do You know that though?" I shot Him a perplexed question. "If You never do anything wrong; there's no motive to question."

"Yet if those around you, who do wrong _**to**_ you; is only evil continuously? This is no comfort to try and understand either. Especially if that evil is not residing in you. Is nothing to compare to." Jesus did His best to explain. "This too require having to sort."

 _We sat quiet for another few moments._

"Well, that does make sense to me. I… I.. guess?" I let out a hapless sigh. "Even if I can't relate to it."

Jesus giggled as He gently patted my shoulder and leaned over and kissed the side of my face.

"That's another thing." I tried not to smirk as I looked at Him. "I never imagined You'd be quite so affectionate. Are You normally like this?"

Jesus sat a moment to think.

"I… not sure." He confessed. "Is my culture to do and not do at the same time; but…. I do to you and others I meet here just as I feel." He shrugged. "Is seem more normal because though you close in different ways; you all still very dear." Jesus laughed as He started to cry again. "Toby cry too and keep saying: I'm so stupid! But is OK. I guess I be stupid too."

"I guess we all be stupid!" I started to giggle myself, as I too wiped my eyes. "And maybe that's the other part of this?" I continued, trying to collect and make sense of my own random thoughts.

"I have trouble articulating even to myself how much You mean to me, because it's like no one would believe me anyways. I know that sounds dumb, but I still have a hard time praying out loud because I'm afraid… I'm going to start crying and people already think there's something wrong with me. So…. why confirm that." I paused a moment trying to reconcile the pain. "Yet they still question if I have any real faith; whether I behave as expected or not?" I shrugged in frustration. "I guess I just never… do it right? What ever that's suppose to mean?"

"I must not be, do it right either." Jesus started to laugh. "But my Kingdom not of this world and neither those in it. Toby say this same thing. He think is people not 'get over' him once being gay. But is really not that either. Those of this world simply not understand those that aren't."

 _I let out a long sigh as I sat staring at Jesus._

"Can't Ya just make us hug and kiss each other without getting in trouble?" I muttered under my breath as I tried not to be so obvious of my deep-seated desire to play huggy kissy. I tried real hard in my embarrassment not to smirk.

Jesus only started to laugh.

"No!" He retorted rather forcefully. "I rather go: Eeeee! Father lock me in this room to calm down, than to not feel this glory. I already know how it is to walk with no soul. Is trying and confusing to feel nothing; so much more than to run to safety. I like to feel. God means for good what men use for evil. Jesus rather get excited alone; than not excited at all!" He shook His head in all seriousness.

 _I flashed Him another dumbfounded glare as that one had to sink in._

"Do You get excited a lot?" I grimaced an unsure inquiry.

"I get excited enough." He happily shrugged.

 _I looked at Him and sat and wondered some more. Holy seductive. Yeah, it fits! I sighed._

"I guess You do?" I thoughtlessly acknowledged. "I've certainly seen it more than I'd ever expected to." I shook my head in side comment. "Me and my weird dreams." I muttered.

Jesus just started to laugh as He clapped His hands together. "To be excited never kill anyone. Is intent of the heart to action that kills. Just as you not defiled by what goes into the body; nerve bundles, hormone and neurotransmitter is not this problem either. My soul long to praise the Father." Jesus laughed as He started to cry. "I can feel this again!" He giggled as He wiped His face and cried some more.

Jesus started to get a little silly, as He jumped up and raced across the room; flinging the front door wide open before swiftly slamming it shut again. He turned around.

"Is definitely not Judea." He reminded Himself.

I started to laugh.

"So is that how You deal with excitement; run outside into the cold?" I giggled.

"I like to run. I like wind." Jesus began to confess. "Even cold. If not too cold, not even need of clothing. I run until I too tired to run more; then fall asleep where no-one ever find me…. accept creatures who sniff, crawl and step on me." Jesus laughed. "Sometime I sit and call them to me. Is like they remember this long lost Adam from millennia past. They miss the peace sin take from their world. The creation groans and travails."

"Jesus's personal petting zoo." I giggled.

"Big adventure I once have riding with lion's pride in the middle of night." Jesus started to laugh. "This 500 pound beast obey me. I tangle my arms and legs in his mane and he run for miles; some of his pride along with us. They step in pattern: right left, right left and spring forward with hind legs." Jesus went on to explain. "Is almost is if in his gallop, his feet never touch the ground. Is not like a horse. His bound much stronger. Little 100 pound Jesus hang on for life." He laughed some more. "They stop by a river to the rest of the pride and go swim; catch fish even.

Jesus paused to reflect a moment.

"I stand with the rocks by the shore and look at their valley in the bright moon. Father say to me: Jesus you make all this."

I sat and smiled at Him as He took a deep breath.

"Were You proud of Yourself?" I grinned.

"No." Jesus lent an honest confession. "I cry instead." He laughed.

"You do get overwhelmed a lot don't You?" I contemplated some more.

"Yes, but is OK." Jesus began to giggle. "I like overwhelmed. It make me very quiet and cry out in joy. Best to know One hold this tiny life in huge hands. Hold me!" Jesus threw His arms up and yelled into the air. "Is what make me happy." His arms drifted down as His shaking hands covered His giggling face and He crumbled to His knees in submission to what now had a hold of Him.

I sat a while, as giggly Jesus rested His hands on the floor; face now buried in volumes of the flowing hem of His tunic. He sucked in a deep breath, stumbled to His feet and over to the fireplace where He and planted Himself in the nearest chair. He sat a moment before He leaned over searching for the switch to 'light it up'.

Hum. Was all I could manage to articulate, as it began to sink in how similarly my feelings mirrored His. How could it be that I'm really not as warped as I thought I was? Jesus looked so happily contented, curled up comfortably with chin in hand mesmerized by the dancing flames in the dark box that was now circulating warm air at us.

"You sleep yet?" Jesus suddenly turned chuckling, as He got up and scurried off into the bedroom; returning moments later with a fat flounce of goose feather bedding. "I send the comforter." He smirked as He threw it over my head.

"Gee thanks." I mumbled from the dark side of the duvet, while Jesus plopped Himself back in front of the fire.

"Jesus?" I lent an attempted inquiry.

"What?" He turned around.

"What do I do with all of…. _**this**_?" I flailed a bit and let out a sigh.

"Give it to the Father."

"Not…. _**that;**_ …. _**this?"**_ I threw my hands out between us. "This whole dream… thing I'm apparently stuck in."

"Oh." Jesus shrugged with a chuckle. "I don't know? Write a book."

"Yeah." I smirked back. "Write a book!"

So with that unrequited…. theology? I snuggled up in 'the comforter' and finally closed my eyes.


	57. End Game

**End Game**

I clung to Him in an odd combination of near terror and breathless anticipation as He pushed the huge door open and walked into the expansive chamber. It was daylight, but still comfortably lit with warm lights that glowed of fragrant candle ambiance. Still and quiet enough to rest in; but certainly of what ever was to happen, it would not be happening in the dark!

Thank You. I signed in comfort.

He wandered around the room a bit in happy song, humming the tune to 'Be Thou my Vision'. I cried in appreciation, because I could not find the words to speak. Finally He wandered over and set me among the soft fluffy white blankets; before climbing up and sitting quietly among the down mountains.

I did not do anything as I was so frozen with anticipation I couldn't move.

He held His hands out to me and offered a quiet contented sigh.

I took His hands up to my face and cried.

He giggled a bit and dried my tears as I kissed His hands. He let out a little whine too, giggled some more and wiped His own tears. We sat looking at each other, fingers entangled together as we leaned a little closer together. I finally get to play huggy kissy with You; I giggled as we gingerly puckered up and smoochied a bit. I burst out laughing as neither of us ever closed our eyes. Thats OK. I cried in my soul as I threw my arms around Him and squeezed as hard as I could. He happily returned my embrace and we flopped over among the fluffiness for attempt two at huggy kissy.

Every moment that passed, left me melting further and further into this dream. God it's not fair. This is too easy. I sighed as I squeezed my Love closer. Why is this so easy? I wondered as the sensations of 'overwhelmed' and loved began to seep into my soul. I cried in contentment with every tiny bit of profound peace that bubbled up and spilled over to subdue both of us.

He could't speak either. This grand presence that arrested both of us left Him with an expression of profound awe. Thank You I cried as I squeezed Him closer. I had no idea why I'd yearned so much to see that; but I did. So I just joyfully wrapped my existence around Him and let this glory totally subdue both of us. I wailed with joy and peace I could not contain while He joined in my song.

Absolute surrender was glorious, profoundly humbling…. _and completely exhausting!_

I lay there in profound stillness, barely breathing and quietly watching Jesus while He quietly watched me. I wanted to hug and kiss Him some more but just could not find the energy to keep my eyes open. He giggled a bit as it seemed He couldn't either.

The next time I opened my eyes; I was awake for real. The room I'd left remained etched in my mind as I sat up and nearly screamed in panic.

"Jesus where are You?" I squeaked as I stumbled out of 'the comforter' and around the room. "I'm sorry!" I wailed. "I didn't mean it."

I ran around the cabin. The bedroom door was open and so was the bathroom door; but still no Jesus.

"I'm sorry! I'm SORRY!" I sobbed.

"Kat-reen." I heard a voice from the other room.

I darted out into the common area and stared across the…. space into the kitchen. There Jesus stood with a kitchen mitt on one hand and an egg flipper in the other half staring between me and the food He was tending.

"I'm Sorry. I'm Sorry." I ran over, fell on the floor and wrapped my arms around His knees. "Don't leave me. I can't help myself." I lamented.

"Kat-reen." I heard Him sigh as He set the items on the counter and flicked the stove off. He then squatted down and… sort of plopped onto the floor.

"I'm sorry." I bawled.

"Kat-reen." He poked me. "Kat-reen. Look at me."

"Huh…?" I whimpered as I gathered up enough half hearted courage to peer in His direction.

"Is a dream." He stated rather matter of factly. "You not dead; and I still talk to you." He chuckled a bit. "What is more you could ask for in this life?" He shrugged with a smile.

I flashed Him an expression of…. unsuredness. Yeah… it was a dream? I tried to reason; and I suppose… if He says I'm not dead. I… I guess He's telling the truth. I reached out and poked Him back.

"Why are You so incredibly human?" I whimpered a bit as I sat up on my knees and started touching His face. He grimaced a bit and smirked at me. "But I saw them do this to You." I mumbled as I pushed Jesus over and started feeling His side. "I was standing right there when he stabbed You. He took the spear out of my hand." Jesus started to giggle as He rolled over onto the side I was prodding.

"I watched them whip You." I muttered some more as flopped on top of Him. "They left marks all over You." I plucked at the hem of His tunic, peered underneath, reached up and put my hand on the back of His leg. Jesus squeaked a bit hesitantly as I reached up further and planted my hand in the middle of His back. "You're warm and You breath." I muttered another observation as He squirmed around, finally managing to pull my hand out of His clothing as He rolled over again and sat up.

"And You're definite a guy." I lent one last thoughtless observation as let go of His tunic and sat up.

Jesus only stared at me with a dumbfounded sort of expressionless gaze that seemed to say: I'm God incarnate and I'm even speechless.

I looked at Him and grimaced.

"Ehh… sorry." I giggled a bit embarrassed. "That was…. kind 'ah rude; wasn't it?"

Jesus didn't answer.

"But how do I know You so well?" I began to spill over with questions. "I can see You. I can touch You and hug You. It's like You're so earthy. Five minutes ago You were in my dream, laying on top of me and we were hugging and kissing all over our insides." I paused a moment with the sudden realization - well, that was a bit graphic.

"And God see everything He make and behold it is very good." Jesus spoke.

I stopped a moment and looked at Him.

"Genesis." I mumbled.

"Genesis." He replied.

"The Creator." I amended.

"The Creator." He repeated as He leaned over, put His hands on the floor and pushed Himself to standing.

Jesus turned around and started rummaging through the refrigerator and cupboard. He pulled out some plates and cups as I rambled to my feet and He stood staring at the coffee maker.

"How this thing work?" He muttered as He leaned over and examined the buttons.

"You want coffee." I offered. "I can make coffee."

Jesus nodded and smiled happily as He dawned His mitts and peered in the oven. Apparently He'd managed to make something that sort of resembled French Toast. He giggled a bit as He reached inside and emerged with casserole dish filled with fluffy sticky bread-like substance. He carried it across the kitchen, and set it on the dinning room table. He then returned for the plates and cups; and a third trip for the eggs in the frying pan.

I'd manage to get the coffee going as I watched Him set the table.

"You hungry?" I offered an inquiry.

"Is a long walk to Emmaus." He smiled somewhat apologetically, as He returned back to where I was and opened the pantry door. A bright sunny day emanated from inside the pantry as I leaned over and cautiously peered inside.

"Ya mean after all this; You're gonna pull a Narnia on me?" I thoughtlessly mumbled with raised eyebrow. Jesus only giggled.

"Not before breakfast." He answered as He walked back toward the table and held a hand out to offer me a seat before He sat down Himself. I waited momentarily before retrieving the coffee carafe, some half and half from the refrigerator and coming to sit down. Jesus prayed while I only sat staring at the road to Emmaus that apparently was in the cabin's pantry?

"You mean this is where it all ends?" I inquired as I poured myself some coffee and took a swig.

"This where you start new book." Jesus answered.

I only sat staring at my fluffy, sticky bread-like stuff. Almost a bit reluctant to admit that it was pretty tasty.

"Am I going to be like this the rest of my life?" I quietly sighed.

"You soul always long for me; yes." Jesus answered. "But you learn more and more to do all thing with grateful heart to glory of God."

I looked up at Him as He smiled and finished the last of His eggs and fluffy, sticky bread-like stuff. He let out a sigh as He looked toward the pantry; before He got up and walked to me.

"See you again in new heavens and new earth!" He smiled as He leaned over and kissed the side of my face; walked across the kitchen, stepped into the pantry and closed the door.

I jumped up, scurried over and flung the door open. Yep, shelves and a couple of groceries I'd stuck in there the night before.


	58. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Twenty five years have passed since I've….. awoken from that dream? I've lost track of how my months I've logged in counselors' offices trying to sift through it all. It's been an extremely long journey; but today I start a new book.

One thing remains though; my soul still longs for Him and yes; I have learned more and more to do all things with a grateful heart to the glory of God.

So….

 _Ask me how I know there's a God up in the Heavens._

 _Where did He go in the middle of my shame?_

 _Ask me how I know there's a God up in the Heavens._

 _I say His mercy is bringing me life again!_

 _I'm coming to life again!_

So ask me...

* * *

 **I get a little tongue twisted,**

 **Every time I talk to You when I see You.**

 **And I'm so glad that You just missed it,**

 **The way I stared to memorize Your face.**

 **To kiss You in my mind.**

 **Love You all the time.**

 **'Cause when I close my eyes,**

 **I still can see Your smile,**

 **It's bright enough to light my life,**

 **Out of my darkest hour.**

 **Please believe it's true,**

 **When I tell You I love You!**

 **I've taken too many chances,**

 **Searching for the truth in love that's in my heart.**

 **Tell me if I made the wrong advances,**

 **Tell me if I've made You feel ashamed.**

 **'Cause I know I have to do this,**

 **Would You hold my hand right through it?**

 **'Cause when I close my eyes,**

 **I still can see Your smile.**

 **It's bright enough to light my life,**

 **Out of my darkest hour.**

 **Please believe it's true,**

 **When I tell You I love You!**

 **I had to let You know just what would happen,**

 **Yes I had to let You know the truth.**

 **I know I've got to do this.**

 **Would You hold my hand right through it? Would You?**

 **'Cause when I close my eyes,**

 **I still can see Your smile.**

 **It's bright enough to light my life,**

 **Out of my darkest hour.**

 **'Cause when I close my eyes,**

 **I still can see Your smile.**

 **It's bright enough to light my life,**

 **Out of my darkest hour!**

… **.. know now this is true,**

 **When I tell You I love You!**

 _(I see your smile - song by Gloria Estefan)_


End file.
